Hunters, Angels, Werewolves, Oh My!
by Iyosana-Hari
Summary: Full summary is at the beginning of the 1st chapter. Sorry, too long. Basic idea is Dean and Cas move to Beacon Hills, adopt recently orphaned Stiles, Stiles meets Derek, and they click. Kind of... And Dean is just the parent you'd expect him to be. : ) T so far, may change. Don't worry that there are a lot of chapters! It's a really really easy read!
1. Oh, Mickey we're so fine

Summary: TW AU: Stiles' dad "dies" in the line of duty just before his sophomore year. Stiles doesn't know what to think, so he doesn't. He just feels. And he feels numb. He doesn't push away his best friend, but he's not really looking for new parents, even if they do fit the roles well enough. Even if he is wary of all the new people entering his life, he accepts what he can't change, and he finds two great guys who understand. SPN FUTRFIC: Once life calms down Dean and Cas decide to settle down, Cas even talks Dean into fostering. They move to a nice quiet town and their foster son is a nice kid. But isn't Dean a bit young to be playing Shotgun Dad? This totally inspired by an awesome youtube video title "Teen Wolf x Supernatural Crossover - Destiel adopts Stiles and Sterek Happens". Please look up the video so they are not as inclined to sue me.

Dean was killing time in their new home. He had unpacked essentials and the stereo, which had an unmarked CD in the player. Dean curiously hit play, only to have his eardrums be assaulted by utter crapwaves at high volume.

"Oh, Mickey! You're so fine, You're so fine, you blown my mind! Hey Mick-" Dean popped the player lid open, embarrassed.

"Cas!" Dean felt a presence behind him, but still jumped at the voice. Cas sounded rather cheerful. Although Dean was personally a bit worn out, it gave him a bit of pep.

"Play that one about the promiscuous young woman with the dance named after her." Dean turned around smirking.

"Only if you'll do the dance." Cas didn't see the harm in doing the dance, he probably would have done it anyway. But whenever Dean spoke like that and he did the action in question, they'd end up in bed, and they didn't have that much time. "Dean, the child will be here shortly." Dean turned to remove the CD from the stereo.

"Cas, the kid is 16. Not much of a child. And you should take off the trench coat. How did the interview go?" Cas tilted his head.

"The paperwork they sent states differently." Dean rolled his eyes with a faint smile.

"I know. It's a cultural thing. Next."

"It's technically an overcoat." Dean sighed but laughed.

"Noted. Next?"

"The interview… went well. I believe I have secured a position."

"In what…?"

"I believe I will be teaching a class called Artistic Expression…"

"Your vessel had an art education degree…?"

"Apparently so. I thought it would be confusing for me to ask."

"Jimmy's a strange man…." Dean unplugged the stereo.

"I suppose that would be a reasonable accusation."

"Unless we're planning on offering the kid a beer, I think I should go mix up a batch of Koolaid." Cas opened his mouth to say something, but then thought about the statement as Dean walked into the kitchen.

"That's meant to be a joke, regarding that he is not yet of legal drinking age!" Cas shouted to Dean, thoroughly proud of himself for figuring it out all on his own.

"Nothing gets by you these days, huh, Cas?!" Dean laughed, but Cas smiled, not noticing the hint of sarcasm.


	2. Meet the Winchesters

"Thanks for helping me with my stuff, man." Stiles said to Scott as he retrieved a couple of the bags of belongings from the back of his jeep.

"No problem, Stiles. I wanna help make this all as easy as possible for you."

"Dude, I told you I'm okay." Stiles didn't feel like telling such a lie to his best friend. "Or at least I will be. Of course I'm sad. But nothing can make it better, so… Might as well deal with it the way I've been prepared to since I realized how my dad being a cop really was: taking dad's liquor and getting drunk at the preserve tonight." Scott patted him on the back.

"Although I disapprove, I will of course be there for moral support. Ready to meet your new foster guardians?" Stiles sighed.

"Ready as I'll ever be. I hope they aren't jerks." They went up to the door and knocked. Almost immediately a man with curly brown hair and stubble answered and looked them both up and down before speaking.

"Hello." Stiles paused, confused when the man didn't let them in.

"Hi, I'm Stiles… uh, Stiles Stilinski. Your foster kid?" The man looked at him and said in a gravelly monotone voice.

"Yes. I'm aware. The paperwork says your name is-"

"Whoa! Is your voice strained, or is it always like that? Oh man, I'd definitely get that checked out if I were you." The man tilted his head to the side looking confused.

"I do not understand what you mean…." Before Stiles could respond another man peaked into the room.

"Cas, is that the kid? Hurry up in let him in!" The man went back to whatever he was doing and the guy in the overcoat moved aside to let the two of them in.

"Right. Welcome. Please, uh, have a seat." Scott and Stiles set the bags they carried in down at the bottom of the stairs and went to sit on one of the couches. The guy sat across from them on an identical couch.

"Well… As you know, this is Stiles. I'm his best friend Scott. It's a pleasure to meet you." Scott held out his hand and the man slowly took and shook it, but said nothing. They sat there awkwardly until the other guy came in with two glasses of Koolaid. He handed them to Scott and Stiles with a slick smile.

"Sorry for leaving you alone with Cas for so long, he can be a bit socially crippled." He looked to the other man as sat down next to him. "You at least introduced yourself, right?" The awkward guy opened his mouth as if about to give an excuse, but then just turned back to them.

"My name is Castiel. Nice to make your acquaintance." Scott smiled and Stiles nodded, and spoke to the taller guy.

"I'm Stiles, this is my best friend Scott. He came to help me with my stuff and meet my foster parents. Nice to meet you guys." Scott jumped ever so slightly at Stiles' straightforward attitude.

"Well, I'm Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you Scott, and Stiles, 'we casa es tu casa' so make yourself at home, kid. Except don't go through the boxes. We've yet to unpack everything and we don't really know what's where."

"So, any rules you wanna make perfectly clear before there are any problems?" Stiles said not able to stop thinking how weird this all felt; how overly formal it as was. Yet Dean chuckled.

"Just don't wake us up if you come home late and keep it down if you bring a chick around." Castiel tightened up with an inhale but didn't loosen up when he sighed.

"Dean…" He said in a scolding voice.

"Alright, alright. I'm sure we can come up with some more. Uh…. Why don't you start Cas?"

"I believe curfews are a commonly set rule…" Dean sighed.

"Really? Fine. Uh, how about tell us in advance if you're going to be out past 12?" Stiles tried not to show his relief about Dean's lenient approach. "11 on school nights. Cas you wanna make a rule?" Cas took a second, as if thinking.

"No Satanism, witchcraft, or necromancy in the house…" Dean quickly put a hand on the awkward man's shoulder as the boys sat up straight at the odd rule.

"Cas… Satanism? Really?"

"Dean, I believe a few special rules might be appropriate." Dean sighed roughly and nodded, seeming to understand what Cas meant.

"Right. Another little rule: Let us answer the door, unless it's someone you personally know, like Scott. And even then they should call before they come over." The teens found the request mildly weird but figured it wasn't unreasonable.

"And if we are not here, and someone you don't know visits, do not answer. The only person that would have an immediate concern has a key." The two nodded at Cas' rule.

"Also, if we tell you to do something that sounds a bit odd, say like putting salt across the threshold of the doors and windows, just trust us and do it." That's where the boys raised their eyebrows both in confusing and suspicion. "Oh, also don't touch my car or my guns. Because you will be under house arrest for a month if you do." That was the first time Dean sounded incredibly serious, and it kind of scared Stiles and definitely Scott.

"One last thing, if you find pie in the fridge, do not eat it. Dean enjoys pie with a passion." Dean seemed slightly embarrassed, but did not disagree.

"Uh-huh…. Well, um, would you mind if I hung out with Scott tonight?" Stiles asked a little put off by the strange rules.

"Not at all. Have fun." Castiel tilted his head looking both concerned and confused.

"That doesn't sound very safe." Dean leaned over to him and said quietly.

"He just means hang out as in spend time together, Cas." The other man nodded understandingly.

"Wouldn't it still be best to know where they'll be?" Dean shrugged, and looked at Stiles.

"Beacon Hills Preserve." Dean looked between the two.

"…Star gazing?" Stiles nodded, not really caring what the stranger thought.

"Thing for school." Stiles specified. Dean smirked and winked.

"Right, have fun with that. Behave, 'cause I'm not answering any calls from jail 'til morning." Castiel looked at them both but nodded.

"I will refrigerate your dinner then. Would you like me to show you to your room?" The boys both got up to follow Cas.


	3. Let the Bottles Hit the Floor

Settle in kiddies. You're staring down the barrel of 14 finished chapters. Working on fifteen. And no end in sight.

*smirks* Buckle up bitches. It's gonna be a bumpy ride.

And no Guest, Scott is not yet a werewolf. The story actually starts pre-series technically, Beginning the morning of the night the show starts on. That is why I have them in the preserve getting drunk in place of body hunting, since Sheriff Stilinski isn't around for Stiles to have over heard about the body.

RIP Sheriff Stilinski... Or is it? No, he's dead. I'm just an ass.  
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They were a fifth of the way through a bottle of Jack, most of which was Stiles' doing, and Scott had to say he was tipsy at least. They hadn't even been there that long, one short swig by Scott, two long ones by Stiles- they hadn't even talked yet. "Your foster parents seem okay…"

"Okay? They are crazy weird dude…" Stiles scoffed.

"Satanism, necromancy, salting thresholds? What are they, religious to a mentally unhealthy extend?"

"Well, you've got a point, but I mean they seemed nice. At least they aren't like the nightmare foster home stories you see on Law & Order." Scott sat on a rock, Stiles laid down next to it. This was how they always arranged themselves when they came up here. Scott knew Stiles was fond of it but he didn't know how bright of an idea it was to get drunk in the woods. What could possibly happen? Get attacked by a vampire? That's what they always say in the movies. And what happens? Sounds stupid but sometimes life is just a bundle of stupid movie clichés. Like having your cop dad die in the line of duty, and not being told how or anything, not even getting to see his body, and being thrown into a nearby foster home before you even got his ashes. Scott understood why Stiles wanted to get drunk before they got thrown back into school, so Scott let himself get dragged along, even if he didn't really like alcohol that much. It burned more than it numbed.

"No, they're the innocent weird couple that sacrifices goats in their basement." The two boys looked at each other before they began to laugh.

"I didn't even realize they were a couple dude…!" Stiles gave a gentle whack in response.

"They do seem like an odd couple though right? I mean they're both so… gruff and manly." Stiles snickered seeming dazed.

"Was it just me or was Dean mega uptight about his car?" Scott asked enjoying the levity.

"Overcompensating…" Stiles murmured it all as one word, probably enjoying the warmth in his stomach.

"But the guy wearing the trench coat…"

"Oh, I KNOW!" Stiles cackled loudly. Scott plugged one of his ears but smiled. Stiles deserved a good laugh. There was a bit of silence before Stiles talked again. "He'smore like you dough…." Scott gave a little giggle at that thought.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, doesn't always get what people are saying." Stiles made a funny smiling face. "You're nicer though… Thanks for this Scott. I know you're worked up about Lacrosse tomorrow. Hey, I'll go out for it with you, if it'll make you com-more comfit-" Stiles laughed trying to get his words in order. "Make you feel better…" He said it a bit serious but Scott couldn't take any offers from Stiles when he was like this.

"If you want to tomorrow, I'll have your back." Scott patted Stiles on the chest, partially because it seemed like he was about to pass out. Stiles smiled up at him cheekily.

"I'm gonna do it ten…. Then." Stiles giggled and Scott rolled his eyes as he got up.

"I'm going to go use the trees… Turn on your side so you don't choke on your vomit. And watch out for predators." Stiles scoffed at him.

"Dude! Predators?" "Animals are dangerous. An ordinary house cat will eat your corpse before you go cold." Scott started walking into the woods, palming his inhaler and his phone in his pocket. Stiles called loudly after him.

"Thank God there aren't any cats out here… Mountain lions and coyotes ate 'em all!" He giggled but that made Scott worry a bit.

He walked for a while until he could just barely see the light of the fire barrel. He had to take a puff off his inhaler after he'd done what he needed to prepare himself for the trek back. Putting it back in his pocket, he dropped it. He bent down to pick it up when something caught him by the sweatshirt, as if it had tried to tackle him before he bent down. Regardless of the misstep, it did manage to throw him to the ground, and there he was staring up at something. Some… _thing_.* It looked like some kind of dog or wolf, but was bigger and way scarier and it had…. _Hands!_ Scott panicked and looked around for a branch as he struggled against it, he looked beside him and saw open, peering, dead eyes. Literally, there was a dead woman next to him. He turned his attention to the beast and poked it in both of its red eyes. But that worked; it shook its head and Scott took off towards the car before he could think. He couldn't get Stiles in the Jeep before that thing ripped them both to shreds. It was going to follow him, and he had to lead it away. He swiftly turned and ran as fast as he could toward the road. He did his best to scream for help, but the best he could muster was a shout. He hadn't managed to grab his inhaler and he sure could have used it. That thing was already following him. It was much faster. But Scott was smaller than it, somehow, and thanks to forced cross country track he had no problem swishing quickly through the tightly placed trees. Toward the road the trees were thinner, and the last stretch was basically open with no obstacles. His only chance was to pull the best sprint he could and try to get the attention of a car he thought he heard approaching. He almost made it when he felt a set of teeth sink into his side and he howled in pain. He fell to his back and kicked it, throwing it into the road so the car hit it and it ran off. The car stopped only a moment. They tore off as Scott peered out of the woods. Fine with him. He needed to get back to Stiles and quickly at that.

*Did you notice the Twilight Zone 1963 "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet" reference? Gold star for you!


	4. I Fall Down Then Pass Out a Bit

Squiggle: Not anymore than in the show. I tried to keep things the same as the show. Only difference is the second practice is on Thursday not Friday, but that you don't have to worry about until chapter 6. This is a Sterek-Destiel fic with something weird with Sam putting up Luc and Crowley for whatever reason on the side, which isn't really clear. Sam may even be trying to date women, which obviously doesn't work out, Luc and Crowley both being to blame, collectively. There may be mention of MichAdam, which may or may not show up because DEAN.  
I don't like putting to people together just to break up, unless they're canon.  
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Stiles couldn't tell if he was drunk, but he knew he hear Scott call out for help. He got up and looked at the woods surrounding him, trying to discern what way Scott had went. He still heard things, but in the dead nothing of the woods, he couldn't tell where. He had to be drunk. This should have been no problem. He chose the generally direction he thought the noise was coming from but it had since gone quiet, so he had no way of knowing if he was right.

"Scott!? SCOTT!" He tried but kept receiving no reply. Regardless he kept walking and yelling. Inevitable he tripped. But of course, it was at the top of the decently steep hill, and he went where gravity pulled him. He landed hard, trees and rocks beating him as he rolled every which way down the hill. He built up so much speed he started to bounce own the hill, but just then his head slammed against a thick tree, and then continued rolling until his legs slammed into another tree, scratching as they pulled of the tree. He groaned as he rolled gingerly down the rest of the hill. He was hurting bad but he could still see the big charred blob that he knew could only be the Hale house, out in the woods like this. _Shit, really?! Of all the things… What was this, a horror movie?!_ He didn't even care. He didn't have the strength to move and he now felt blood going down the back of his neck. It wasn't like he'd bleed to dead, but it wasn't all that light flowed either. He closed his eyes and groaned, almost as if communing with nature. He heard footsteps rustling in the leaves, and someone quietly growl.

"What the hell…" The person sighed. Stiles turned his head gently and looked up at the figure. Stiles' vision was still shit, so the only thing he could see was the guy's eyes. They were a steel gray blue. "Hey, get the hell outta here! You hear me? This is private property!" Stiles only grumbled at his utter rudeness.

"My friend was in trouble. I heard him yell… I went looking and I tripped down the hill." Is what he was trying to say, but he didn't know how much of that actually got out of his mouth or was coherent. But he seemed to at least understand part of it, because he looked up the hill, and back down at Stiles' now limp body. He seemed to glare at something he saw up the hill but Stiles didn't particularly care. With that Stiles didn't know what else to do but pass out.


	5. (Please Don't) Ramble On

Squiggle: No problem! I'm just grateful when wonderful readers such as yourself, who read my longer stories review every few chapters, and so I'm more than happy to give a shout out in the AN, and answer questions.  
As for them laying together: Remember in season 1 episode 8 Lunatic, the episode after they all get trapped in the school, and Stiles takes Scott and some JD out to get over Allison, although it only serves to get Stiles shitfaced? Scott sits on the rock and Stiles lays on the ground perpendicular to him, his head right by his thigh? Yeah, same except the point is to get Stiles drunk. It felt like they were plenty comfortable doing that, and so I wanted to make it a Them* thing. Scott and Stiles were pack before it was cool, and I love that about them. Maybe they'll have friend cuddles later.  
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When Scott got back to the picnic area it was almost 2am. The bottle of Jack was gone and Stiles was nowhere to be seen. Scott looked over to the Jeep, he saw part of a shoe and rushed over. Thankfully he found his friend laying in the back of the jeep. No, wait. Not laying. Laid out. On his back, a blanket partially covering him, over both his arms. He had a minor gash to the back of the head. Stitches worthy, but not that bad. Scott shook his head, not wanting to know. Stiles was okay, He was mostly okay. That was all that mattered. He jumped into the front seat and pulled out, driving back to Stiles' foster parents' place.

Once they arrived he parked in the driveway and dragged Stiles into the house. _And fucked…._ Dean was sitting on the couch in pajamas, with a beer watching TV. He jumped up when he saw them.

"What happened?" Now the man was completely serious. Scott was flustered.

"Some predator attacked me; I don't know what happened to Stiles. He was pretty drunk; I think he might have fell or something." Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Predator?" Scott nodded. "What kind of predator?" Scott had to think how to say it. He could have been wrong about the hands…

"It was like some huge dog or wolf, with red eyes… I think it killed a woman. I-I saw a dead body." Dean scrunched up his face. But shook his head. "Shouldn't we lay him down or something?" Dean walked over to Scott and Stiles. He put one arm under Stiles' back and the other one under his leg and lifted Scott's lanky friend with easy. Scott followed him into the dining room, and helped him gently lay Stiles down on the table. Dean checked out Stiles' head wound but Scott already looked it over, it would need stitches.

"Damn, kid… What'd you do to yourself?" Dean walked off but Scott stayed with Stiles. Dean came back with a heavy duty first aid kit. He put it down by Stiles' legs. He poured some alcohol over the wound and pulled out a needle and some stitching wire. Before Scott could protest he had sewed up the gash on Stiles' head. Stiles barely flinched the whole time, but Scott cringed the entire time. Dean patted the wound with a towel and put a small bandage over it. Then he pointed at Scott's side. Scott looked down at his side too, blood perfectly visible in the light. "Take 'em off. I'll check it out really quick." Scott felt embarrassed but trusted the man. He had performed those stitches perfectly with zero effort. Good as his mom. He was going to take care of it himself anyway, might as well have a pro do it. He took off the hoodie and slowly pulled the tee-shirt over his head. Dean sat in the chair he was standing by and looked solely at Scott's bitten side. "I've seen a lot worse." Dean wiped his side clean of blood, wiped it with alcohol, and bandaged it carefully. "Just keep it clean. Got it?" Scott nodded. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna call your mom. Let me get boozy here to bed and I'll give you a lift home." Dean carried Stiles away. Scott brushed his fingers over the bandage. _Was the bite really not that bad?_ Dean came back wearing a jacket and carrying a set of keys. He threw Scott a shirt and a plastic bag to put his shirt and hoodie in. "You might want to just throw them out. You never get blood out of a white t-shirt." Scott followed him out to the car and got into a car he only knew was from the 60's or 70's. Dean pulled out of the garage probably trying not to make too much noise. He turned to Scott once on the main road.

"If your mom asks, just say you were over here, kay? Freakin' her out won't do any good." Scott didn't nod.

"Really?" Dean looked at Scott not understanding what the problem was. "Stiles got hurt. Aren't you mad?" Dean scoffed.

"Kinda. Not at you. Not at either of you." Scott looked doubtful. "I was a kid once too. I went out plenty, got in trouble a lot myself. I dealt with it myself at your age. I grew up differently than you two. If you have trouble with something, I've got your back. You were just trying to have a good time. You didn't do anything wrong. Either of you." Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Now, let's stop with all the mushy shit. How do ya like Led Zepplin?" Scott shook his head.

"I've never actually listened to it…" Dean looked shocked by this.

"Well… You're going to." He popped a cassette in the player. A song started playing. It was fine. A bit drawn out and soft. But good by situation. They got to Scott's house and Scott was ready to get out but the car engine kicked off and Dean got out too. Scott looked at him wide eyed. "There's a car out front and the lights are on. You aren't sneaking in. I'll cover for you." Scott was nervous but he nodded, trusting Dean yet again. They went up to the door and his mom pulled the door open, obviously mad and worried. She didn't bother to notice Dean.

"Where the hell were you?! Do you know how worried I was?!" Scott held his hands in front of his chest as if a hostage at gun point.

"I was over at Stiles' new house. Mr. Winchester brought me home." His mom looked over at Dean slightly calmer. Dean smiled a slick smile. _Is he checking out my mom?_

"It's just Dean. The boys fell asleep while they were setting up Stiles' room after dinner. Sometime between 11 and were gonna let him stay over, but he woke up a bit ago and said you'd be worried if he didn't get home. Really sorry for keeping him so late. They just looked too adorable to wake up, ya know?" _Thank goodness_ his mom wasn't falling for his flirting. But she almost did.

"It's okay. Just please don't let it happen again? I worry. Get to bed, Scott." Dean left and Scott went to bed.

*Just made me think of Good Omens.


	6. Maybe they'll leave you alone but not me

Okay, to give some background, my lovelies: (feel free to skip to the last two lines of this A.N.) Okay, so I built this whole thing with my bare hands. Not all that impressive. Stupidly, I built it as one document. Even more stupidly, I had it on a flash drive, didn't back it up on my comp. (Well, I did at one point but only up to like the middle of chapter 3.) I'm bad with it, never really eject it. Well surprise. That can make it so your more bitchy files won't open. That is what people mean when they say "that'll corrupt your files". Thankfully a week before that I was watching a Friday the 13th marathon, and I thought "Hey I should send this to my girlfriend!" So I did, and then I noticed an error and thought "Edit this shit" and of course I rewrote entire parts, starting with this chapter. I thought I'd resend it, never did because I'm an idiot. So, the file got corrupted. My friend suggested I try decrypting software and told me to just search recover corrupted files. So I do this, ironically while watching Nightmare on Elm Street. Try several programs. Doesn't work, in fact I think they gave me adware issues. So I'm distraught, and, you can thank MaximumRide-Fang for this fic, because she says, "Didn't you send that to him like two weeks ago?" She was wonderfully helpful even though I'd been a frantic panicking bitch, and waited patiently and understandingly while I fixed the formatting because pasting from word to facebook to word again gets rid of paragraphs, italics, everything. And of course I'm still not happy because I'd rewritten a lot. But I managed to get it mostly reformatted that night. Then it sat for a while because I'm lazy. Then I got the rewritten parts re-rewritten, then I worked editing, then it sat a bit more. So, one day I'm going to work on it, and I put the flash drive in (Same one, yes, I never learn, still haven't, I still only have it on that.) and it twitches itself out of the dock, because it's very fickle. I get it back in place, go to the file and almost all of the fics I had in the file SPN and TW are GONE. I wait a week or so because sometimes they just don't show up for a while. My friends say they're corrupted, from not ejecting. I say that doesn't make sense, but I figure they know better than me, so I go to someone who knows better than them to get a definitive answer: our tech teachers, they didn't know. But they say the computer teacher, Buckley, would know. I doubt it because he doesn't seem like he knows anything about computers, but they assure me he's like a genius. So he checks it. And he says there's no reason it should have happened, that corruption would've just made them inoperable, but there's nothing that he's heard of to make them disappear. SO I'm screwed and have to start over. And it took a long time. But I've finished to the point of what I have written, and I'm putting it on the comp as soon as I finish typing this.

So in short, go to hell Evan and Troy, I told you they weren't corrupted. And please send thanks to MaximumRide-Fang!  
Also, Derek and Stiles meet this Chapter! Or maybe next chapter... Whatever.  
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Derek got off his couch of a bed. He had just buried his sister (or at least half of his sister) this morning and he may or may not have been crying since. He heard someone outside. _Teenagers. Sigh…_.Maybe if he mauled one of the little bastards they'd keep off their property. He sprinted to where they were. He heard a howl, and then laughing, but he couldn't hear the words following, mingled with the crunch of sticks and leaves.

"It's not funny, there could be something seriously something wrong with me!" A soft voice scolded seriously.

"I know, you're a werewolf! Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But if you see me with a lot of silver this week, it's not 'cause I'm going to propose to Lydia in an attempt for her to finally see me. The full moon is Friday." This voice was more pointed, but was smooth. Reminded him of the hard cinnamon candies Laura'd been fond of, or of fireball whiskey, which he had bought a bottle of earlier after he polished off the JD he found last night when some kid rolled down the hill near the house.

"Dude, I swear it was right here. I used the bathroom over there, I started back, dropped it, Then that thing tackled me and I saw the body."

"Maybe the killer came back for the body." Derek could see the boys now. One was paler with short brown hair. He was probably the boy from last night. Derek couldn't recall it perfectly. He didn't care to look the boy over, he just wasn't about to leave him in the middle of the woods in the state he was in. With a strange wolf's scent near it would be equivalent to rolling over and showing his belly to it. The other, the one looking for the inhaler, was a light tan- most likely as a result of heritage, not a trip to the beach- and had long curly black hair. He'd never seen him but his scent was thick where he'd found Laura, and on and around the Jeep where he'd left the other kid.

"I hope he left my inhaler, those things cost like 80 bucks."_ Right, Inhaler._ Probably the one he'd found last night near Laura.

"Hey!" The pale one looked up to Derek and started to squirm. He fussed after hitting his friend on the back to alert him. "What are you doing out here? This is private property!"

"Sorry, man… W-we didn't know." The stutter was subtle, but Derek noticed and toned down his glare by a joule of power.

"Yeah, we were just looking for something." Derek tossed the tan one his inhaler.

"I don't want to see you around here again." The jumpy one nodded before Derek started to walk away. Even at a distance, he could hear the fidgety one whisper.

"Dude! Do you know who that was?!"

"Should I?"

"Dude, Derek fricking Hale, he's only a few years older than us. His family lived around here, most of them died in a fire."

"Oh." He heard the fidgety one whack his friend softly.

"Leave it to you to wonder into Hale property, find a mauled body, and lose your inhaler… Hey, maybe He has a pet wolf." Derek waited a second to listen to see if they'd say anything telling about the other wolf as they walked off.

"I feel like you aren't taking me seriously…"

"Of course I am." The pale one howled at a medium volume, probably not wanting Derek to hear him.

"Maybe it'll come now, and we can catch your wolfie friend." _Ugh, that one wasn't even funny…_

"Funny… Really funny… Next time I'm going to leave you up here." They pushed each other, laughing as they walked off.


	7. Lost (In Your Eyes) In the Supermarket

If you don't know what something is, ask me, or Google!  
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Stiles rubbed his neck, looking up to the top shelf at checkout. The second Practice had killed him, trying to do as well as Scott, because he promised he'd try. He might have been drunk, but a drunken promise is still a promise. Meanwhile, Scott had been doing gymnastics on the field as if he was a God made prodigy, WHICH Stiles could assure you he wasn't. And at the first practice, he also caught every attempted goal, which he also shouldn't have been able to do. The werewolf thing was continuously looking more fitting, especially after his Dad's old friend and coworker Tara dished that half a body was found with wolf fur on it, that same night. Scott had probably found the top half, but he was saving all that for a full blow research session later. Now he was ready to check out of the store with his Groceries. Unlike a normal grocery store the checkout shelves were as tall as an of the aisle shelves. They put the more mature magazines and old candy no one likes or knows about. Whatchamacallits, Razzles, candy cigarettes, chocolate coins, even candy buttons. Since he was too young to buy the magazines, he grabbed a couple bags of chocolate coins, a bag of Razzles for Scott, and a couple Whatchamacallits for Dean and Cas. He had already elected to make dinner, but he felt bad for being such trouble the night before. The buttons were half gone, so he couldn't reach. He just kept trying to pull a sheet of them closer with the very end of his finger. _Damn it!_ If only he was an inch taller. He sighed and pulled his arm down just to see a leather-covered arm reach up and grab the sheet he'd just been trying for and hand it to him.

"Here…" Stiles nodded and murmured his thanks, thoroughly embarrassed. He was too busy sorting his candy to make it easiest to carry to look at the guy. "Making a family dinner? You're parents must be pretty proud." Stiles sighed in his head. It was astounding that he never realized how often people said that. First couch in a motivational speech to them before practice. A janitor he barely knew at school said that to him after he almost broke his neck getting a goal at lacrosse practice. A senile old woman who thought his name was Gilmen said the same when he helped her pick out produce. He swore he didn't hear it twice as much before his dad died. He was getting sick of having to be gentle with other people about his problems, when he just wanted to be blunt. He didn't realize he'd spoke his mind until he'd said it, but he didn't really care.

"I wouldn't know, I'm an orphan." He muttered it at a normal volume trying to figure out how to manage carrying all the candy, he finally just dropped it in his cart, hoping check out wouldn't take too long.

"Really? Same." Stiles looked up to see if it was someone he knew of. _Derek freaking Hale is in my check out line... _"But I'm guessing you aren't eating all that food yourself."

"Uh, um, No. Cooking for my foster parents. Or well these two guys putting up with me until I finish high school. I just got put with them and I'm already causing more trouble for them than I used to cause my dad." Stiles would have sworn the awkward statement took him 5 minutes to get out. "How long is this flipping line?" _Shit._ He said that out loud. Derek looked ahead of him.

"Like five people with half full carts." _'Holy Shit, is Derek freaking Hale smiling at me?'_ "So, what are you making?"

"Um… Stir fry. I think…." Derek gave him an amused look.

"Well, you're gonna want to use some soy sauce or some make a broth for that. It's not too good dry." Stiles nodded, feeling a bit out of place.

"Yeah, uh, soy sauce. I think the Guys have some at their house." Derek nodded seeming much more comfortable.

"How'd you hurt your head?" Stiles stifled a laugh but shook his head smirking and probably blushing.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Derek shrugged giving him a casual half smirk back.

"You'd be surprised." Stiles laughed to himself softly.

"Went out drinking. My best friend got chased through the woods by a werewolf, I went looking for him and took a header down a hill, bashing my head into a tree." He watched Derek to see if he would be freaked out. He just nodded.

"Sounds like a fun week." Stiles shrugged; happy he hadn't made the most intimidating man on earth run from him.

"Weekend, but generally yes." Stiles still couldn't get over the fact that Derek Hale was smiling at him _again!_

"So, this friend helping you through it?" Stiles wondered for a minute what he meant, when he realized Derek had figured out his dad had died, he tried to review how much he'd said about it, embarrassed.

"Uh, he has been. He's kind of goo-goo for a chick right now, but I can't really blame him. He was getting a bit over bearing anyway. I could use a bit of time to think about it on my own." Derek nodded. He was a lot less intimidating in a conversation.

"My sister was the same way. She didn't want to give me even a minute to feel bad about it." Derek seemed sad mentioning his sister. Before either knew it, it was Derek's turn at the register. Stiles was a bit sad their conversation had to end, but he was still surprised when he was handed half a receipt with a number on the back, with _"Derek 'Freaking' Hale"_ written directly under it._ Oh god did I call him that out loud._ Unbeknownst to Stiles, he'd just heard him and Scott earlier that week. "In case your friend is too busy with that girl…" Stiles smiled and took it. Derek seemed hesitant to smile back but he did. And for Stiles, that was amazing enough. He got back to getting his groceries checked out once he thought Derek had got going. There were a few more bags than he thought there would be. He was trying to figure out how to carry them all when he heard the smooth voice again. "You need help with those?" Derek was standing behind him. He blushed but smiled as Derek grabbed three of the six bags.

"Thanks…" Derek and he walked out to Stiles' Jeep in an awkward but nice silence. Or at least nice while it lasted. Derek's chuckle broke the silence.

"This is your car?" Stiles' blushed again.

"Well where's your car mister classy?" Derek smirked and pointed to a shiny black Camaro not too far away.

"Of course you have an overly gorgeous car… How very fitting."

"Does that mean you think I'm gorgeous?" Stiles gave a chuckle with his lips tight together.

"Mm, I have to think about it. Ask me again when I call you…" Stiles was sure not to be too quick loading car. "Enjoy your overly gorgeous car…" Stiles waved before hoping into his Jeep.

"I didn't catch your name." Stiles smiled out to him.

"It's Stiles… Stiles Stilinski." Derek stood there a second smiling, before sauntering off towards his car. Stiles pulled out of the lot and drove home smiling to his self softly.


	8. Whr4 Rt thou, Derek?

Max: All the chapters up to 15 are written. I haven't started 16, but I'm not planning on Stiles getting bit. At least not getting turned. They may have a bite scare. But no, it's not a wolf Stiles story. Sam is not yet in town. Friendship cuddles will ensue. There is plenty of time for them to deny they want each other. Don't rush.  
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He had a hard time carrying six bags at once but finally just carried one at each elbow and then carrying two in each hand. After a struggle with the door he stumbled into the house to see Dean and Cas sitting and talking with a tan guy with brown hair, he seemed to be tall, even sitting. He planned to ignore the whole thing and get dinner started, but Dean stood up and started over to him gesturing the guy to stand. Thankfully Dean grabbed the three bags on his left arm, and Stiles adjusted the remaining baggage giving Dean quick thanks.

"Stiles, this is my brother, Sam. He's going to be hanging around a couple days, helping me out with some stuff." Stiles shook the man's hand with a slight smile. He gave back the same smile.

"Nice to meet you, Stiles. Enjoy staying with the guys so far?" Stiles nodded.

"Yeah, they've both been great; I was actually going to make dinner. Are you and Dean gonna stick around?" Sam and Dean looked at each other. Sam nodded and Dean patted Stiles on the shoulder. "Yeah, we can stick around. Sam's probably hungry anyways." Sam nodded and shrugged.

"Yeah, actually, funny story, Luce was mad about me coming and took the food I had packed for the road." Dean held back a snicker. Sam rolled his eyes. "I have no idea why you two don't get along better, at the same maturity level and all." Dean gave a just fake pout.

"How am I supposed to get along with anybody sleeping with my baby brother?" Stiles could tell Sam was gritting his teeth in his mouth.

"Don't say that so misleadingly…"

"How is it misleading?" Dean feigned innocence. Sam sighed and spoke directly to Stiles.

"He means that literally not figuratively." Stiles smiled.

"I'm a 16 year old American boy who plays sports. I know a gay joke when I hear it. I'm guessing Luce is a guy, since you saw the need to point out that you aren't 'sleeping together'." Sam nodded.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that. I mean, would be wrong with that. But there isn't. Wouldn't be. It's just, he in particular can be kind of…."

"-'An insufferable dick', in Dean's words. Would you like me to help you prepare dinner, Stiles?" Castiel thankfully pulled him away from the awkward situation. Stiles leaned toward his savior to speak quietly.

"Thanks, Cas. Do you guys have any soup broth or soy sauce or something?" Cas nodded and led Stiles to the kitchen and started going through a box. He handed Stiles a bottle of Soy sauce, then pulled out a bottle of water with a rosary in it, with a smile.

"Dean will be most pleased I found this. I've set out a wok and a set of tongs for you. Please excuse me." As soon as Cas left the kitchen he called loudly. "Dean! I've found the holy water!" Stiles found that amusing but not half as amusing as Sam and Dean shushing him loudly. At this point he just accepted that this was a weird family he had unwillingly become a part of. Especially after finding a jar full of blood which, Cas "comforted", was just a dead man's blood. Stiles got to cooking. He melted a few of the chocolate coins on top once it was almost done. Which turned out pretty damn good, but tasting it burned his tongue. He served the chicken and veggie stir fry over rice and set the table.

"Soup's on!" Dean seemed to have been giving a light chuckle before he came in and sat down.

"This looks great, Stiles! Scott going to join us or is he home tonight?" Dean took a bite and burned his tongue too, but laughed at himself softly for it. Cas and Sam had the sense to blow on it first.

"Home as far as I know." Sam made a happily surprised sound.

"Stiles, is there chocolate in this?"

"Yeah, I picked up a couple bags of those chocolate coins at the store, melted a couple over the mix, and tossed it a bit. Surprisingly good right?" Dean smiled.

"Sammy loved those as a kid. It really tastes great Stiles." Cas looked confused.

"Chocolate coins?" Stiles was also used to Cas' weird ignorance and disturbing knowledge of certain things. He got up and retrieved a handful of the coins for him. Cas inspected them, not seeming to get it. He bit into it and made a perplexed face. "This is tinfoil not chocolate." Stiles took a different one and peeled it.

"The chocolate is on the inside. The tinfoil is just a wrapper." Cas took the piece of chocolate and inspected that.

"These are rather amusing." He ate the coin. "And quite good."

"Yeah, surprised you didn't ever have any as a kid. They're big on Easter." Cas just looked at Dean then back at Stiles, nodded, and went back to eating his stir fry.

"This is a very nice combination." Stiles shook his head in dismissal.

"Glad you like it, Cas." Stiles finished first and collected his dishes. "Um, I'm probably gonna go up to my room and do some -uh- homework." He washed up his dishes and came back out with the candy he'd bought. He gave the Whatchamacallits to Sam and Dean and the extra bag of coins to Cas. Dean grinned, happy to get the candy.

"Thank you~. Night kid. You know where our room is if you need us. Leave your door open a crack, unless you're looking at porn. Then just open it before you go to bed. Did you salt your window like I asked?" Stiles rolled his eyes. Dean had decided it was best (for whatever messed up reason) that the windows and exterior doors remain salted at all times.

"Yes, sir. I put it in the space for when the window is closed so the wind wouldn't break the line." Dean smiled.

"What a natural. Go on, do your homework or whatever you kids call it these days." Stiles hurried upstairs. He wondered if it was too soon to call Derek as he turned on his computer. It had been a couple hours since they saw each other at the store. A text was the safe bet. He pulled out his cell and entered the number Derek gave him as a recipient.

"_hey._" It wasn't long before his phone blooped.

"_Kid from the grocery store that thinks my car and I are gorgeous?_" Stiles smiled.

"_Oddly specific. How many people did you give your # to today?_"

"_Hm. Exact # or estimate?_"

"_I think it'll help my self-esteem if Idk_."

"_Don't worry. Just u. Glad to hear from u. I was worried u might lose my number._"

"_I could never._" Stiles immediately sent another. "_Believe me, I tried. I swear u put glue on it or something._"

"_Aren't u witty._"

"_It's a talent I was born with. Both a blessing and a curse._"

"_I know the feeling._"

"_Hru?_" This time the reply took a few minutes.

"_Tbh, not great_."

"_What's wrong?_" Again the reply was delayed.

"_My older sister died recently. I just had to bury her this week._"

"_Are you okay? I can tell you two were close by how you talked about her._" A minute or two later his phone blooped again.

"_Yeah, I'm used to the feeling. It hurts but, I think I'll be fine._"

"_I can come over if you'd prefer company?_"

"_No._" This time it was immediate. Only a few seconds after he'd asked, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt a little. "_It's not that I don't want to see you, it's just best if you don't come over. I'm at my family's old place._" Stiles started typing his reply: _That's fine. If you don't want me to come over, we can just text._ He didn't get to send it before Derek replied again. "_Could I come over? I'd really like to see you._" Stiles didn't really know how good of an idea that was. The guys' place was practically on the on the other side of town from the Hale house. Dean had basically grounded Stiles from the outside world passed the 11pm curfew_(still 12 on weekends)_. No guests, except Scott and only if he was staying the night, which he had to do Tuesday to have dinner with them, because Cas wouldn't let him ride home in the dark. By the time Derek got there it'd be passed 11. Sneaking out was one thing, _but sneaking a guy in… _

"_Our place is pretty far. I don't know how the guys would react to me having a guy they don't know over in the middle of the night. I'd have to sneak you in. And be forewarned: I've never done that._"

"_Sounds fun. I can B there in half an hour._"

"_Window all the way to the right facing the back of the house. You should be able to climb up onto the roof of the back room. Cu then._" After texting Derek the address, Stiles tidied up his room and put on a touch of deodorant. Which took all of five minutes. He sat down and started a bit of mild research, which he deemed completely useless.


	9. Juliet's Dad didn't have a pistol

Dinner after Stiles went up stairs consisted of 30 of discussion of the problem of what sounded like a hellhound attacking their new foster son's best friend, which he hoped would be more sensible in the morning. After 30 minutes he had to call it a night. Cas took the dishes and he and Sam went upstairs. He stopped in to check on Stiles.

"Hey. What's up?" Stiles seemed to be hiding something, but he figured it was just that he wasn't really doing homework, which Dean already assumed.

"Hey. We're all heading to bed. You know where we are." Stiles smiled at him and nodded.

"Sleep well. If I stay up I'll make sure there's coffee made." Dean smiled.

"Cas and Sam should be up in the morning to keep you company. Sweet dreams." Dean took a quick shower and brushed his teeth before going back in his and Cas' bedroom and turning off the lights. He stood at the window, first to check that it was still salted, but then to admire the night. Before he had time to enjoy it he saw something moving in the dark and then heard a thud on the roof of the back porch. He looked out only to barely see something slip into Stiles' window. Dean quickly grabbed his pistol out of his bedside table.

"What's wrong Dean?" Cas' voice got rougher when he was nervous or worried or confused. It was definitely rough now.

"Nothing. Stay here. I'll take care of it." As Dean went down the hall, Sam opened his door and looked down the hall and back at him, asking if he needed back up, but Dean gestured for Sam to stay where he was. As he approached Stiles door Dean swore he heard whispers. Dean opened the door and aimed his gun, scaring Stiles and surprising what seemed to be his guest.

"Oh, god! He's not breaking in, don't shoot!" Dean lowered his weapon and gave an angry sigh.

"I'm not going to shoot him! Yet, anyway. Who the hell is he and why is he here?!"

"Th-This is Derek Hale and he's here to talk. Just talk." Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"Stiles, Why is he breaking in, in the middle of the night, to talk?"

"Uh, could I please talk to you about this in the hall?" Dean was tempted to say no and just kick the guy out, but Stiles' pleading tone got to him a bit. He sighed and pulled Stiles into the hall and closed the bedroom door. "To start, don't hold this against Derek. I told him to sneak in."

"M-hm. Why?"

"Because it's late and I didn't think you'd want me having some guy you don't know coming over in the middle of the night after Sunday. You and Cas have been freaked out all week."

"Because giving us a heart attack is such a better option? We're worried about you, Stiles. Sue us."

"I'm sorry; I just didn't think you'd find out honestly."

"And not to mention having some guy over in the middle of the night without us knowing, how well do you even know this guy? He could be a serial killer or a rapist or a cornucopia of things you could not possibly imagine!"

"He's an acquaintance. His family died when he was young. I ran into him today and we got to talking. We were texting after dinner and he told me his sister died just recently so and he said he wanted to talk, so I invited him over." Dean sighed feeling a bit guilty.

"This time I'll let you get away with it. Next time you want to have someone over passed ten, tell us. I don't care what entrance they use, but I'd prefer the front door. I honestly don't wanna see him here in the morning, so make sure he's out of here by one." Dean hesitantly gave Stiles a quick hug. After pulling away he pulled out the sternest voice he could muster. "And if you scare me like that again, I will nail your window shut and you will be home schooled until you go to college, do you understand me boy?" Stiles nodded curtly.

"Yes, sir. Sorry." Dean nodded back and tried not to smile.

"Good. I'm going to bed. If he's a serial killer, yell for Sammy. He's a light sleeper. If he's a rapist, there's a shotgun in your closet." Dean walked calmly back to bed. Cas was pacing. "Our kid just had a boy sneak into his room." Dean hugged the angel from behind.

"Normally that would mean the boy is his romantic interest."

"Yep… Seems like it."

"Shouldn't we meet this boy?" Cas leaned back into him gently. Dean rested his head on Cas' shoulder.

"No, not yet. Stiles said the guy's here to talk and I believe it. So, we wait for Stiles to want us to meet him. They may not even get serious."

"Did the boy seem nice?"

"God no. He was wearing jeans, a leather jacket, and I think high tops. He was my height and I'd be surprised if he was more than 10 years younger than me. I'm pretty sure I smelled booze. I wanted to shoot the guy." Dean sighed. "I probably would have if I'd known Stiles for more than a week."

"If it means anything, I firmly believe that makes you a good father…" Dean smiled and kissed Cas' cheek.

"I really love you…" Dean turned for the door again. "I think I'm going to go bust the door in again just to scare him enough to keep his hands off Stiles for the night." Cas chortled and hugged him from behind, keeping him there with his angel.


	10. The Boy with the Aderral Perscription

Short Chap. But it's mostly Sam anyway, and who really likes Sam? I'm kidding don't slay me. I myself mainly dream about our dear Jared... What can I say, I like tall guys.

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It was almost noon and as Stiles guessed he skipped school. Cas had checked in, but when Stiles told him he was staying home to do research and that none of the teachers really taught anything the first week of school, Cas even called the school to tell them he wouldn't be into school. So he sat at the computer all morning, using his Adderall to stay awake and focused and covering his floor with printed information off the internet. He grabbed some of the breakfast Cas had made at Cas' request and nipped at it every now and then taking a real bite when he heard Cas coming to check on him every hour. He also glanced at his phone and the number he'd taped to the back of it. Derek had disappeared last night while he was talking to Dean, leaving a note saying "Sorry for getting you in trouble." And he hadn't answered Stiles' texts since. Sam had woken up early and Stiles could hear the man moving around in the guest room. Stiles could only guess he was working out. A few minutes ago he'd come out of his room and went into the bathroom to take a shower. _Maybe it was a bad idea to have his door open while he was researching… _10 minutes passed before Sam exited the bathroom. He froze outside Stiles' room and looked at him.

"Hey, Stiles…." Stiles swished his hand in a busy dismissive wave.

"Yo…" Despite his clear body language signals Sam came in slowly, as if it made him less intrusive.

"Whatcha up to?" He stood a few feet away on a clear spot on the increasingly unorganized filing cabinet that was his floor.

"Research… Cas called in my absence to school." Sam looked around at all the paper lying about. He picked up a picture of a hairy wolf-looking guy in old clothing with a bloody cartoon bullet hole in his chest.

"On… wolf men?"

"Werewolves actual… got to go through the junk to get the goods. Welcome to the internet." Stiles said still sifting through Google results.

"Interested in the topic?"

"Recently." Stiles printed another stack and set it on top of his printer.

"Why is that?" Sam seemed a bit suspicious, so Stiles just kept typing. "Stiles?"

"I'm kinda busy. You mind if we chill another time?" Sam backed off pretty quick.

"Yeah, sure. We can chat later."


	11. Flipping Fingers, not Houses

Max: 8- NO! Salt only works on ghosts and Demons. The Winchesters have given no indication that they know about rowan wood/mountain ash, or that they use wolfsbane, since we're on the topic. 9- They did adopt him. Stiles didn't find it funny, nor did Dean... Derek may have found it a little funny. 10-Sam and Stiles talk plenty in this chapter. Careful what you wish for. And I don't know about other schools, but all the public schools I've been in, don't do much the first week, especially not on Friday. Cas believed him, partially because it fits with the school not wanting him to start until Monday, and Dean told Sam if he argued with Cas he'd kick his ass, because Cas NEEDS some new clothes and he would refuse to go and fly off if Sam upset him. And on your random note, I don't think Stiles needs much teaching to deal with werewolves. And I don't think he'd want them to teach him because he wouldn't want to be a hunter. As I said, he and Scott are pack, which puts him in their boat. He would never want to think of himself as a hunter, and all Our Winchesters could teach him is how to kill. "Silver to the heart or the head." And that method Stiles would be put off by that just as much as Scott or Derek. It's not the pack's way.  
SQUIGGLE: Nice to see you as always. Seeing your name in the Reviews is a delight.  
Wolf Dragon Demon: I don't know, why don't you GUESS?! But no, it'll be awesome. Dean will not be happy camper. He already would seriously like to kill Derek. Thank you for the review.  
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Sam had gone on a run a couple hours later to clear his head of what went on between Stiles and him. He was actually worried the kid might hate him. As he returned from his run a teen with black curly hair push past him, storming out. He shrugged it off, figuring it wasn't any of his business. He got himself some milk out of the kitchen and plopped himself in front of the TV to watch cooking shows and HGTV while Dean and Cas were out buying suits, for Cas who was apparently going to start working at the high school Monday. Stiles came down the stairs seeming to be in a sulking mood. "Hey. Sup?" His foster nephew sighed flopping on the couch.

"I just need to stop caring about people…. Or start going to sleep by 10. But then I'd have to take my Adderall at like…. Five in the morning."

"Guy troubles….?" Stiles shook his head.

"Scott? Hell no. In general- yes." Sam tried to keep from smiling as he gave a sympathetic look.

"Want to talk about it?" Stiles looked at him for a minute completely silent.

"Is it bad if a guy you like gets caught sneaking into your room, sneaks out while you're explaining it to your dad, who just had pointed a gun at him, leaves a note that says 'Sorry for getting you in trouble' and then doesn't answer your texts…?" Sam open and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.

"Honestly…?" Stiles nodded not looking very hopeful. "Yes. The only options there are he's freaked out, mad, scared, guilty, embarrassed, too busy to answer you, or hurt or dead."

"I didn't consider a few of those, and I don't know whether to be relieved or scared…" Sam gave a soft sympathetic chuckle.

"I suggest both." Sam smiled at Stiles.

"That way you can't regret not feeling one later."

"I don't know whether that's the smartest thing I've ever heard or the stupidest. Pretty sure it's the first… Thanks, man."

"No problem. So, you mad at Dean?" Stiles seemed to become a bit guarded. "I'm not going to report whatever you say back to him. I'd understand if you were. I just thought you might want to vent."

"Nah… I get why he freaked. He might have said 'there's a shotgun in your closet' a bit loud on purpose. But I think Derek was gone by then anyway." Sam nodded, and said a bit firmly.

"So why the research on lycanthropy?" Stiles tried staring Sam down, but after a full minute sighed. "Are you going to think I'm crazy?"

"I doubt you could imagine what it'd take to just surprise me." Sam tried not to give Stiles any inkling of what he meant.

"Scott and I were out—"

"I know, Dean told me. Everything. What about it?"

"Scott swears it was a wolf or something, he says he heard a wolf howl. They found wolf fur on a body found that night, in that area. Well, half of a body. And since that bite, Scott's been acting… weird. Doing impossible things. I told him, told him he needed to cancel his plans because tonight's the full moon. I tried to make him cancel but he threw me into the wall and nearly punched me." Sam sighed.

"Maybe he's just stressed." Sam didn't particularly think it sounded like a werewolf, but he didn't want to use those exact words.

"Sam, He knocked over my computer chair before he stormed off. You need to see it…" Sam gave a curious look and followed. The chair had three parallel cuts. Like those he and Dean often saw.

"Uh-huh, definitely not just stress…" Stiles sighed. "I'll talk to Dean about it okay?"

"What?! No, no, no. He's just going to worry and say I shouldn't hang out with him. It's fine. I'll just keep an eye on him." Sam stopped him from leaving the room.

"Stiles, I can't let you follow your werewolf friend off to wherever. You have no idea what you're getting into." Stiles definitely seemed upset about Sam's opposition.

"I know I'm trying to help my best friend. I know what I got from my research."

"And if your research is bullshit?" Stiles looked speechless and pissed.

"Then, I go with my gut, act in the moment."

"Stiles, I'm trying to help you out here. It's a bad idea. You need to leave this for us to deal with." Stiles threw up his hands.

"And what makes you so qualified?!" Sam crossed his arms.

"How's about when Dean gets home you can present your case to him, and ask him if he wants you chasing around a werewolf?" Stiles looked as if he had run into a cage. Sam gave him a waiting look.

"Fine. I'll talk to him about it when he gets back…" Stiles finally got by him and muttered "Dick…" as he went down the hall toward the stairs. Sam rolled his eyes and called after the boy.

"I heard that ya know!"

"Yeah, well, maybe you were supposed to!" His foster nephew stormed down the stairs.

_Teenagers are hard….. _


	12. Not So Lazy Generation Prt1

Stiles sat in the living room, dressed to go, waiting for Dean and Cas while watching TV, ready to quickly storm them get affirmation without giving the whole story and making a run for it before Sam could get a word to him. As soon as Dean opened the door, Stiles was in his path. "Hey, Dean. Can I go to this party tonight? Everyone is going, and I need to act as Scott's wingman. Please?" Dean held up a hand to halt.

"Don't bother, Sammy called me. You aren't going anywhere but your room. You should know better than to try to snow me. Go." Stiles gave a pouting look.

"But-!"

"That wasn't a suggestion, it was an order! Go!" _Damn_ _it_. Stiles turned a pleading look on Cas.

"Cas?" He put a deep whine on it. Cas gave a sympathetic look but didn't help at all.

"We are only trying to protect you from danger Stiles. Dean may seem harsh now, but please have faith that he is only thinking of what is best for you. Go to your room." Stiles huffed, stormed away up to his room and slammed his door before pacing. He quickly formulated a plan. He was 89% sure Cas would send Dean up in ten to fifteen minutes to check on him, or he'd come up himself. Either way he had a plan. He shut off the main lights and turned on a dim lamp before slipping into his bed. By the time he'd spent 10 minutes in silence, he could practically hear everything being said downstairs.

"Cas, I'm not going to check on him."

"Why not?"

"Why? Because I already know he's pissed, that's why."

"I'm not asking you to see if he's pissed, I'm asking you to see if he's okay."

"Cas, trust a human on this…"

"No, Dean. If I have to check on him myself, we will not be sleeping together tonight." Stiles snickered being practically able to hear Dean opening and closing his mouth like some fish. Stiles quickly mustered up a good fake crying sniffle and voice. _Perfect…_ If he got this right those two might not bother him until morning. He got nervous as he heard Dean's footsteps stamping up the stairs, but stuck with the plan. Dean walked up the hall and opened Stiles' door.

"So, are you going to come down and have dinner, or just sit up here and sulk?" Stiles made a face of contempt regardless of whether or not Dean could see. He mustered up the fake sniffle and crying voice. "Just leave me alone! I hate you!" Dean sighed audibly.

"Fine. Your food will be in the fridge when you final stop acting like a brat." Dean probably didn't mean to but he slammed the door. Stiles could hear Cas and Sam arguing with Dean about being so hard on him, but Stiles knew he was home free. If they came up to check on him he'd see it as a betrayal, and they wouldn't betray him. He waited until Dean shouted at the persistent two. "Enough! If he wants to brood all night, I'm gonna let him, and I expect you two to do that same! Now, can we just go eat?!" Stiles got up and went to his window. He gently lowered himself down to the roof under it and jumped, trying to catch himself but tripping straight to his face. He ignored his misstep and scurried to his car, which he had parked far off on the curved driveway; He put it in neutral and pushed it until it was out of sight. Once he had he jumped in, started the jeep and drove off. He knew the party was at Lydia's so all he had to do is go and have fun while keeping an eye on Scott.


	13. Not So Lazy Generation Prt2

Almost caught up on my writing, Guys! Three more chapters!  
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He got there at the beginning, which allowed very little crowd to hid in. So, of course he ran into the ever beautiful Lydia Martin.

"Don't I know you from… Somewhere?" Stiles fought off the urge to say _Not at all, I've only had a crush on you since third _fricking_ grade. _

"Um, yeah. We've got to school together since like… second grade, maybe? I'm Scott's friend, Stiles. Nice to see you." Lydia looked like see was thinking for a minute.

"Scott as in Allison's prospective boyfriend, right? So, he told you about the party?" Stiles faked a smile and nodded.

"Yeah, sorry if you didn't want extra people. I could leave if you want. I'm not even really in the mood to have fun, I was just looking for Scott." Lydia got a scheming look and it honestly scared him a little.

"Nonsense. Scott and Allison are going to be on a date… We'll just have to cheer you up ourselves." She abandoned whatever she was doing at the snack table to drag him out to the pool area. It wasn't crowded yet but there were more people out there than there were in the house. She shoved a cup of punch at him and sipped from one herself. _Where was that jerk, Jackson, when you needed him?_

"So, sweetie. What's got you down?"

"Um? Well, Plenty of stuff…" Lydia's bored and searching face was intimidating like nothing he'd ever encountered.

"Specifics…" Stiles honestly didn't want to talk to a girl about Derek. Especially not the girl he's had a crush on since 3rd grade-especially not cold blooded Lydia Martin. "Spill. Girl problems? Boy problems? Drug dealer incommunicado?"

"Mix of the second and third…" She gave a fake sympathetic look.

"Drug dealer problems?" Stiles sighed.

"A guy is incommunicado. And he's not my drug dealer, because I don't do drugs. Except those I have a prescription for." Lydia nodded and flicked her hand in a circle, telling him to go on. "Last night, my foster dad, Dean, caught him sneaking in-not to do anything, just to talk. He disappeared while I was explaining things to Dean. He left a note apologizing for getting me into trouble, but he hasn't answered any of my texts since."

"This isn't Scott we're talking about, is it?" Stiles went wide eyed and gaped.

"Scott?! God no!" She nodded, seeming to be entertained.

"Good." Jackson started pulling her away as more guests were arriving but she shook her head seeming genuinely sympathetic. Then smiled, putting on her hostess routine. "Forget it and have fun. If he doesn't text you by tomorrow, he's not worth your time." She gave a little wave and went off with Jackson.

Stiles tried to take her advice and he managed to mingle until he saw Scott stumbling through the crowd. He tried to stop ask him what was up but he just shook his head and kept walking. Stiles politely disengaged from his conversation with the other party guests and went in the direction Scott had gone. When he got to the door he saw Scott's mom's car quickly driving away, and Derek Talking to Allison and then leading her to the shiny black Camaro from the store. After holding the passenger side door open for Allison, Derek seemed preoccupied mentally. He walked quickly to the driver side door. If he saw Stiles watching from the door he didn't make it obvious. Stiles quickly got in his car and went after Scott, putting Derek at the back of his mind. Once he arrived at Scott's he let himself in and ran up to Scott's room. He was in the bathroom; Stiles knocked. Of course he asked where Allison was and if she was okay, and Stiles told him she got a ride home from the party, trying to keep from sounding like a jealous ass."I know who it is now." Stiles nodded to full of worry to entertain worrying about who the werewolf was.

"Okay. Scott, Let me in so we can figure-" Stiles tried to open the door as he spoke but he was cut off by Scott's voice, now just behind the ajar door. It wouldn't open further but as if he was leaning into it attentively rather than keeping it from opening.

"It's Derek, Stiles! He's the werewolf! He attacked me in the wood and killed that woman!" Stiles was dumbstruck.

"Are you sure?"

"I saw him at the party! He ran up the roof!" Stiles shook his head, putting away his doubt.

"Scott- Derek drove Allison home." There was quiet, and then the door slammed closed. Stiles pounded at the door but he heard the scrapping of a window opening. He ran to his car and started driving. _But where to go?_ He couldn't go home and tell Dean. He'd just put him up in his room. What use was it going after Derek? If he was the werewolf, there was nothing Stiles could do to help Scott. He started driving to Allison's place. He'd tell her parents. Have them call the cops. He felt weird pulling up to the house. He barely knew their daughter and he had to tell them all this crazy sh- it wasn't important now. He knocked quick and hard. A middle age woman with short hair dyed red answered. Her mother maybe? "Hi, Mrs. Argent. Um - You have no idea who I am. I'm a friend of Allison's. Uh, from school. This is going to sound a little crazy. Actually, really crazy. You know what? Crazy doesn't even describe what i'm about to tell you but you're gonna hav-" She turned and called upstairs.

"Allison! You have a visitor!" _What? _Allison walked into view up on the stairs balcony. _What?!_

"Um, never mind. I'm sorry for bothering you." Stiles quickly got back into the Jeep. All he could think was to go to the preserve. Stop Scott before he killed Derek. He took dirt roads deeper in, wanting to walk as little as possible. Once he couldn't go any further he put it in park, turned off the car, and hopped out. He started running, calling for Scott in a hushed tone. Then he heard something. It sounded like a firecracker going off. He ran in the direct he heard the noise. Someone was pointing a crossbow at a tree nearby. _Holy_ _crap!_ Scott was pinned to the tree by an arrow through his arm. The guys with the guy ready to shoot Scott were pulled backward and Stiles took the chance to save Scott. He ran to him and broke the arrow; Scott quickly pulled his arm off it and Stiles quickly pulled him behind the tree before another arrow hit the tree. It blew up into a huge light, so bright it hurt Stiles' eyes, but probably not half as much as Scott. Not a second after the light they were being pulled. But not out of hiding, deeper into the woods, toward the car.

"Come on!" Stiles looked up as he started to run. Derek was pulling them both away. _He was helping them._ They were both certainly faster, but Stiles wasn't slow at all. He kept within a few feet of the two ahead. Derek kept looking behind to make sure he was still with them. Stiles was sure this whole situation would result in therapy. They were almost to the jeep when Derek took a final look back, but this time his eyes went wide and he grabbed Stiles and yanked him down. "Down!" Scott dropped down to the ground too. A bullet imbedded itself in the front bumper of Stiles' Jeep. It probably would have hit him directly in the back of the knee. Or more likely gone through his knee. That really helped him realize they needed to get the fuck out of there and quick. Apparently, Derek realized the severity of the situation as well, because he yanked them both up and pushed them quickly towards the Jeep. "Everyone in the car, now!" Derek hopped into the back and Scott and he quickly got in the front. They weren't shooting again yet, but Stiles could see someone running closer through the trees for a better shot. He took the chance and put the car in reverse, getting out and back to the main road as quickly as physics would allow.


	14. I won't say I'm in Love, But

Squiggle: M'Yeah, Sterek, dats the word for it, M'Yeah...  
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Once they were driving for a while and Stiles' pulse had gone down by a couple dozen beats, he broke the silence of the small vehicle. "Not that I'm saying I told you so, just next time I suggest you not go out, could you at least, I don't know, change your plans to something a little calmer? Maybe Scrabble?" Scott glared at him weakly. "Not a good time to point out that you should listen to your voice of reason?"

"How is assuming I'm a werewolf reasonable at all?" Stiles scoffed.

"First off, I didn't assume. I did my research after I had sufficient cause to see it as a possibility. Second, if something turns out to be right, it's reasonable." Scott glared more, not having any argument.

"Jerk…" Stiles glared at him lightly and huffed.

"Bitch." Derek rolled his eyes, which Stiles could plainly see in the rear view mirror.

"You ladies done?" Scott turned to glare at Derek. Stiles wanted to, but was preoccupied with not wrecking his car.

"Why are you mad at me?"

"I don't know maybe because, you turned me into a werewolf and got me chased by homicidal psychopaths?" Derek gave a fake laugh and glared.

"Not you, idiot. Him." Scott looked at him out of the corner of his eye, which he saw out of the corner of his, but then went back to glaring at Derek.

"Maybe because he's a good friend." Derek rolled his eyes and gave Scott a condescending look.

"Shut up." Derek looked at him. "I've saved your ass twice now. Why would you be mad at me?"

"Twice?"

"Passing out in the middle of the forest isn't very safe. Bleeding like you were, something would have nibbled on you."

"So you're the one who found me."

"Yes. So, why are you mad at me?" _No more avoiding the question then…_

"Why do you think I'm mad? I haven't said a word to you…" Okay, Stiles would admit that sounded a bit pissy. But still not enough to assume he was mad about anything other the situation or Derek being a little bitchy.

"Well that's part of it. You're also radiating anger." Stiles scoffed.

"Are you a psychic or a werewolf?"

"Heightened senses. Are you going to answer me?" Stiles shifted, a bit uncomfortable as he drove, not being able to emotionally engage in the conversation as much as he'd like.

"Not until you answer me."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Stiles glared into the rear view.

"Figure it out yourself. Where do I turn to take you home?" Derek seemed a bit upset in response.

"Fine… On the right about a mile up the road here there's a dirt road. You can drop me off on the main road, I'll walk the rest of the way." Stiles ignored him and turned onto the dirt road. Thankfully it mostly went straight back. Derek stopped after getting out and turned to Stiles, but he spoke as if speaking generally to both of them. "I'll be in touch. See ya." Stiles tried to keep from smiling but he did; not much but still. Stiles got back on the main road and Scott stared at him.

"Dude, What?" Scott gave a curious look.

"Why do I have the feeling I had no idea what was going on with you two?" Stiles made a fake I-don't –know-what-you're-talking-about face.

"What is that suppose to mean?"

"There's something I don't know about going on between you and Derek. He knew you. He _liked _you." Stiles turned to his friend swiftly.

"You really think he likes me?" Scott gave him a bitch face and he sighed "It's a long story."

"How long can it be? You met on- apparently Sunday… It's barely Saturday morning." Stiles took a second to think.

"Yeah, well it's longer than Romeo and Juliet knew each other, and I haven't slept with him, married him, and neither of us are dead yet. So, chill." Stiles sighed. "We ran into each other yesterday in line at the supermarket. We got to talking. He gave me his number and helped me carry my groceries to car. And then we started flirting…" Stiles knew he sounded stupid but didn't realize he had a goofy smile until Scott interrupted.

"Um, Stiles you do recall he bit me and probably killed a woman, right?" Stiles glared at him.

"Anyways, after I made and had dinner with the guys I texted him and he told me his sister died recently, and that he had had to bury her just this week. I asked if he wanted me to come over but he said it wasn't a good idea because he's staying at his family's place. He asked if he could come over because he wanted to see me and I told him he could but he'd have to sneak in so it wouldn't disturb the guys. So, he came in through my bedroom window but Dean must've seen him, because he busted my door open holding a god damn pistol. Derek was actually fairly calm about that. I explained the situation to Dean out in the hall and he understood. But when I went back in Derek was gone and he left a note saying sorry for getting me in trouble. That would be fine, but he hasn't answered any of my texts since that. And that's why I'm mad…" Scott had a thinking look on his face.

"You think maybe his sister was the girl in the woods?"

"Really? That's what you got out of that whole thing?" Stiles sighed. "Well, if it was I doubt he did it. The way he talked about her, they were close." Scott shrugged, seeming to drop it.

"So, you're crushing on a psycho werewolf who attacked and bit me." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Scott, that was my exact motive in flirting with him. I knew he was a werewolf and that he bit you, I just thought it'd be funnier if it escalated to the point that I nearly got shot in the woods by crazy werewolf hunters. That is what goes on in my head during a trip to the grocery store." Scott gave a short laugh and looked over.

"Can I crash in your room tonight? My mom has the night shift and I don't want to go to bed in an empty house tonight." Stiles sighed just finally calming a bit.

"Sure. Why not? Want to know something funny?" Scott looked at him waiting for said funny thing. "I final talked to Lydia."

"No way! Really?" Stiles nodded laughing along with Scott.

"Yeah, but only because she insisted on interrogating me about Derek."

"She saw Derek?"

"No. I went to the party looking for you and she intercepted me. Probably so I wouldn't mess up your and Allison's date. She made me tell her what was bothering me." Scott sighed.

"Allison's gonna hate me!"

"No she's not."

"How do you know?"

"Well I'm still swooning over that furry jerk... And he kind of messed up worse than you." Stiles patted Scott on the shoulder. "Just be sure to apologize, dude. Or be just amazingly fucking adorable." Scott rolled his eyes and punched Stiles in the shoulder.


	15. 17 going on Senile

Kittycatattack: He forgot. The downfall of so many.

WolfDragonDemon: No sneaking, no accidental shootings! Sorry to disappoint. Hope you enjoy anyway.

Squiggle: Thank you for your leniency.

CassieSalvatore1864: Written in about a month or two, I think. Completing it took close to a year, I would hope it wasn't more than that. They were uploaded in 14 days. But thank you for addictively consuming my writing. I have another SuperWolf story called Like a Beacon for Trouble. Please seek help if you're literally addicted. It's not healthy. But I have a cola addiction.  
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They pulled into the driveway and went in the house. Before he could think, Cas was looking him over seeming to be in a panic.

"You aren't injured?" _Crap._ Stiles remembered he'd snuck out. And apparently they had found that out. Stiles grabbed Cas' hands so he'd stop checking him for injuries.

"Cas, I'm fine. Sorry for sneaking out…" Cas hugged him. It was pretty stiff but seemed right since Cas was giving it.

"That is not important, Stiles. You were shot at." Stiles was a little taken back by that. Dean stormed into the room.

"Damn it, kid! Are you some kind of stupid! I have been calling all over town looking for your ass!" Stiles held up his hand stopping him.

"How did you know I was shot at, Cas?"

"Dean got in touch with an associate in the area. He said he shot at a pack which included two young men of your and Scott's height and build and may have been traveling in a blue jeep. We did the math."

"Associate?! The psycho that almost crippled me is your guys' associate!? You realize how fucked up that is right?! That you have friends that actively try to shoot teenagers out in the woods! Jeez, no wonder you wouldn't let me go after Scott!"

"And I'm guessing Scott is the werewolf that got an arrow to the arm. You okay, Scott?" Scott nodded next to Stiles, not even seeming to care that he still didn't have a shirt on.

"Yeah. Thanks for the concern."

"Oh, don't thank me. I'm just glad you didn't tear Stiles' heart out."

"Well… I've tried not to on a daily basis since we were 12 so it's not that hard to resist the urge anymore…" Dean didn't look amused and Scott shifted uncomfortable. "What I mean is, I really owe him. He tried to warn me, and not only did I not listen, I was a total jerk. And he came to have my back anyway, and ended up saving me. He's an amazing friend, I owe him my life, and I can't tell you how grateful or sorry I am that he got in trouble for me." Dean gave a hard sigh and slap on the shoulder.

"Well, I'm just glad you got him back here in one piece."

"Can Scott sleep over? His mom is working the night shift, and for obviously reasons he's too traumatized to go home and sleep in an empty house." Dean gave Stiles a stern look.

"I don't think so." Stiles gave a pout, and Scott piled on a puppy look of his own.

"Please?" Both asked, but Dean shook his head.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Stiles." Even Cas gave Dean a pleading look that rivaled Scott's. Sam came in the room, smiling when he saw Stiles.

"Hey, You found him! Whoa. What got you a puppy dog convention?" Dean sighed.

"They want Scott to stay over, and I said it's not a good idea." Sam shrugged.

"Well, better to have him where we can keep an eye on him."

"Yeah, but not in a bed with Stiles!" Scott gave a kicked puppy look. "Look, I don't mean..." Dean sighed again. "...You're keeping the door open." Scott brightened and quickly seized Dean in a hug, making the hunter jump. "Oh. N-uh. Okay, yeah... Of course he's a hugger. Are all freaking werewolves huggers?" Stiles scoffed.

"I wish..." He murmured under his breath. Dean narrowed his eyes, tightening the arm around Scott to a vice, which seemed to please Scott, thinking it was just a hug in return.

"What was that Stiles?" Stiles looked up and fidgeted.

"Hm? Oh, nothing..." Dean gave an 'I know something is up' glare and let Scott go.

"Have you eaten Scott?" Cas asked with a smile. Scott blushed and shook his head. "The leftovers of dinner are still out, if you'd like..."

"Thank you, Cas, that'd be great..." Scott followed Cas, and Sam followed them. Dean stopped Stiles as he went to follow.

"You ain't gettin' off that easy, kid. I concede that Scott isn't unstable or anything, at least not tonight. Who were you two runnin' with?" Stiles shifted his weight defensively.

"What does it matter?"

"I ask you, you answer, that's how it matters. Someone from school? He was bigger than you both. Was it an adult you know?"

"No! God, really? Can't we just drop this for tonight? Why do you even care? Wait..." Stiles fixed Dean with a look. "No way. You're like one of those freaks from the woods, a werewolf hunter?" Dean sighed and rolled his eyes.

"We don't specialize in any one creature. We're not _werewolf_ hunters. Just Hunters." Stiles gaped.

"Sam and Cas too then...?"

"Sam, but not Cas."

"What's Cas?" Dean sighed again.

"The pretty guy in the kitchen." Stiles glared.

"He knows. If he's not one of you, how does he know?" Dean quirked an eyebrow.

"Tell me who the other wolf was and I'll tell you." Stiles huffed.

"It's not my place to say..."

"And it's mine?"

"You asked first!"

"Exactly, so you should answer me first." Stiles smirked.

"I don't care as much." Dean crossed his arms.

"I have authority over you."

"I have free will, and tying me up would be a crime." Dean paused a moment.

"I could torture you without leaving a mark." Stiles gaped at Dean.

"Dean, do not threaten the child!" Cas called from the kitchen. Stiles took the moment's distraction to duck passed and hurry to the kitchen to stick close to Cas. _Whatever he was had to be safer than Vlad the Impaler over there._ Cas shook his head and patted Stiles' cheek. "Do not fear, Stiles. Dean was just trying to scare you. He would not hurt you, nor would I allow him to." Stiles nodded but still stuck close.

Once they'd eaten Stiles and Scott sat in the living room watching the Daily Show as the guys talked in the kitchen. Scott had tensed up a few times, but hadn't gotten too upset. The last nine minutes the Three came in and Dean tapped the back of his head. He smiled up. "Yes, Jethro?" Dean scoffed.

"That Gibbs to you, boy. You've got ten 'til lights out. We're going up now, but we'll have our door open so, I'll be watching for you two to come up." Stiles nodded.

"Kay, we'll be up. Sweet Dreams."

"Sweet dreams. Check your window." Stiles nodded again as Dean headed up and Sam followed. Cas hugged him from behind and set a hand on Scott's shoulder before going as well. Soon enough Stiles was bounding up to his room, leaving Scott to follow slowly. Stiles was already in his room as Scott got stopped after turning down the hallway. Dean stepped out, putting his hand on Scott's shoulder. "Hey Scott."

"Hey, Dean..." Scott said, worry evident in his voice.

"I just want to make sure we were clear on one thing: If you were to hurt or say... defile Stiles in any way tonight, how do you think that would work out for you?" Scott gave a confused look up at the man.

"Not well, Sir...?" Dean smiled and nodded.

"I would have you for breakfast. Am I understood?" Scott nodded, a bit scared at the very serious tone.

"Yes, Sir. I'd never hurt Stiles." Finally Dean gave a real smile and clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Great. Remember to leave that door open." With that Scott nodded, hurrying down the hall with a small whimper. He dove into the bed, first thing. Stiles pulled him up, when kicking him out failed.

"Scott, change or you're sleeping on the floor." After five minutes of talking Scott out of sleeping on the floor and another two of them both changing, they finally both wriggled into bed, back to back. "Love you, man." Stiles murmured softly toward sleep.

"Love you too, Stiles. See you in the..." With a yawn they were both fast asleep. As always with in the 20 minutes that passed before Dean checked in, the two were facing each other, heads on a single pillow cuddled between them and their legs as tangled around each others' as their arms were around the pillow. Dean obviously took pictures.


	16. The Only Cure All

Hey, Buddies! Cas and Dean like having sex occasionally in this story! If you hadn't figured that out yet, you would've this chapter!

Gypsy- Daddy Dean indeed!

Cassie- Yesh, Dean took pictures. Thank you. AND no. No longer.

Squiggle- We've already had that conversation. Refer to previous chapters.

Guest- PANCAKE. YOUR NAME IS NOW PANCAKE. USE PANCAKE IF YOU WISH TO REVIEW AGAIN.

WDD- Yes, Dean can be a bit scary if you don't know him. And thank you, I figure Stiles, although a infamous slacker, being a genius would be familiar enough with Odd World History to use the reference casually.

OKAY, FAN EASTER EGG TEST TIME. Won't affect your grade but it will affect my opinion of you! (Kidding)  
I want you to tell me a) what is the name of the massage oil Cas uses and who produces it, b) what it actually is, c) price it sells for, and d) The historical reference if it!  
Bonus #1: Guess where I saw it.  
Bonus #2: What is the secret to Cas' hash browns? There are two correct answers if you've ever made the mistake of having them at Denny's.  
Answers and Grades next chapter, which I'm almost done with! HURRY UP LOVELIES OR I WILL SET MR. HARRIS LOOSE UPON YOU. BWAHAHA.  
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Dean was woken not by a sound, which he'd maintained a half sleep half the night to listen for, but by a smell. A few smells really. He enjoyed picking out what they were in his half asleep morning haze. _Waffles with maple syrup. Bacon- no. Sausage links. Something that smelled like it was cooked with oil. Fresh laundry. Shower mist. And of course, that coconut shampoo that Dean loved for Cas to use..._ "Mmmm..." Dean opened his eyes and looked over to Cas' side on the bed. His angel was laid out on his side, watching him with soft, playful, loving eyes; hair still shiningly damp, and still in a fluffy white towel. He smiled to see Dean awake. "Hey, Cas..."

"Good morning, Dean..." Cas squirmed closer and propped himself up on his elbow to kiss Dean's cheek. Dean took the chance to nip Cas' neck.

"It certainly is... Sammy making breakfast for the boys?" Cas peered down at his hunter, then Dean could feel the angel tinkering with the silk tie of his fleece pajama pants.

"Sam has taken the boys out for a while to see the town. But I have made you quite the meal... It's quite well made, if I may be so proud..." Cas tapped something with his fingers, and Dean finally looked down his body to see the Breakfast in Bed tray straddling his lap. He smiled and kissed Cas graciously.

"You are too sweet..." Cas shook his head.

"I'm merely showing my gratitude, Dean." Dean stretched, giving a happy groan.

"Why have I done to deserve such an honor as Castiel's Gratitude?" Cas gave a small chuckle.

"Being so lenient... So soft handed and easy tempered..." Dean scoffed.

"Oh, come on. How?"

"I expected you to really 'lay into' Stiles last night..." Dean groaned in mock shame.

"I threatened to torture him just to wipe a cocky look of his face." Cas chuckled again, tracing circles into Dean's chest with his finger.

"There was a time when you would've killed that boy the second you found out he was a werewolf..." Dean sighed.

"I still might have to, Cas..." Castiel kissed his lips, shutting him up.

"But you haven't... And you most likely won't... And you're in the same way soft handed in the face of Stiles disobedience..." Dean closed his eyes again, letting himself relax. He gave a soft scoff.

"He's grounded from going out after dark. I mean it. I'll nail his window shut and give his Jeep flats."

"Because you're worried though..." Cas smiled. "Not truly as punishment." Dean rolled his eyes and sat up.

"I can't talk this much on an empty stomach." The something cooked in oil was hash browns. Dean _loved_ Cas' hash browns. He'd had a lot of hash browns at lots of diners. None could compare to Cas'. It was really the only thing Cas didn't burn. At diners you could never get them thoroughly cooked and if you send them back, they'd come out not much better and greasy. Cas' were perfect. Dean even groaned on the first bite. _Could this morning get any better?_ "You've gotta tell me your secret..." Cas grinned wickedly, moving to sit behind him. The angel put some "snake oil" on his hands and started rubbing Dean's shoulders. He knew it wasn't really oil from snakes, but it still creeped him out. Even the name was creepy. But Cas insisted it had major positive health effects, and it did make him feel great, so Dean let his hostility toward it go.

"Never. Don't even try asking the boys. I have them sworn to secrecy as well..." Dean flat out moaned. It wasn't his fault. Cas hit that _awesome_ place on his back just as he took a mouthful of waffle, which turned out to be chocolate chipped.

"Oh, my... Cas, I owe you, so huge. This is amazing." Cas smiled.

"You don't. I'm proud of you... Your happiness is all the reward I need." Cas waited until Dean had finished his meal to lean forward and bite the nape of the hunter's neck, causing Dean to gasp before chortling in surprise.

"Cas, what the..." Dean turned to see Cas holding up Dean's favorite furred cuffs and gave a grin, turning to press Castiel down on the bed. Cas shook his head before flipping the two of them.

"These aren't for me today, Dean..." Dean couldn't help a smile of anticipation from gracing his face.

"Oh, yeah?" Cas smiled and nodded, attaching them to one of the hunters wrists.

"_M-hm..._"


	17. Death is a Flower Salesman?

Okay... I'm going to address reviews before I express how perturbed I am... Ignore the caplocks.

CASSIE- BECAUSE DEAN WAS IN HELL AND HE LIKED IT. (YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE?)

OKAY- NO. JUST NO. I WILL GET TO YOU. JUST- JUST NO.

WDD- INDEED.

YUGIOH- THANK YOU. IGNORE ME YELLING IN A FEW SECONDS.

KITTY- YES IT IS. SEEING AS HE'S A WEREWOLF-PUPPY-MAN. YOU'RE SADISTIC. SAVE IT FOR A MONTH WILL YOU? ALTHOUGH THAT'S BEEN ADDRESSED I WILL READDRESS. YES IT IS FRIEND LOVE. DEAN DOES THINK SOMETHING IS GOING ON. WITH SCOTT WE HAVE A "My mom does all our grocery shopping..." WHEN DEAN THREATENS HIM IN THE HALL. STILES IS JUST TOO FOCUSED ON DEREK TO REALIZE DEAN HAS THE WRONG IDEA. IT'LL BE USED AS COMFORT FOR BOTH PARTIES, AND NO MORE FOR COMIC RELIEF THAN IN THE SHOW. JOKES, BUT NOTHING MORE REALLY. AND DEAN TRUSTS CHRIS AS A HUNTER. HE'S HEARD HE'S A DECENT GUY. VICTORIA HE FINDS CREEPY. (WHO DOESN'T?) HE DOESN'T KNOW KATE ANYMORE THAN HE DOES CHRIS. MAYBE THEY'VE WORKED A JOB, SHARED A FOXHOLE, BUT HE DOESN'T KNOW OR TRUST THEM AS FRIENDS TO _ANY_ EXTENT. KATE HE KNOWS IS A SNAKE AND NOT TO TRUST HER EVEN AS A HUNTER. HE WOULDN'T SHOW HIS BACK TO HER. GERARD HE'S HEARD ISN'T THE TYPE OF GUY THEY ASSOCIATE WITH. HIS TRUST OR LACK THERE OF IS APPROPRIATE.

Okay... Now, I am deeply disappointed in you guys from results of this test...

Yes, I know I said it wouldn't affect my opinion of you guys. I also said it wouldn't affect your grade. WELL GUESS WHO'S GETTING GRADED...  
It's not hard because you all FAILED. Painfully. Big fat F's all around.  
The only one who even TRIED, who put down ANYTHING was ! (NO. JUST NO. NOT YET. I WILL GET TO YOU.) HE DOESN'T EVEN GO HERE! (Also see what I did there?)  
So yes. I am kinda pissed. You should all say sorry to Kitty, because she has been putting up with a shit storm because of this. Although she failed to submit her test, she did know the answer to D. But it doesn't matter what you know, it's what you show.

Which brings me to the only person to have given any effort at this, EXCEPT HE DIDN'T. I have a fudging bone to pick with you now. SERPESSENCE... SERP-FUDGING-ESSENCE...  
YOU COULD HAVE ANSWERED ALL THESE QUESTIONS JUST BY KNOWING THAT LITTLE FUDGING WORD.  
AND WHAT DID YOU PUT? WHAT DID YOU FUDGING PUT?! SERPESSENCE...  
I'M DONE WITH YOU SIR. Take your D- and go out of my sight. Away from my story, just away.

As for the rest of you. Please just BS the answers next time. Google is your friend. No retakes.

ANSWERS:  
a) Serpessence, by Misha Collins  
b)Answer is on the Serpessence website(benefits page) "Serpessence is 100% pure olive oil with essence of orange and rosemary and 'intention of snake'."  
c) Trick question. It's not an actual product for sale. If you click the purchase button it'll take you to GISHWHES site.  
d) Snake oil was what Snake Oil Salesman would call their product. Snake Oil, they would say was a cure all elixir that were basically power shakes. They didn't cure anything; they were simple (often) good for your health. Like Ginger Ale is, or like Olive Oil. Anything in relation to snake oil now often refers to a con, or junk-science medicine. Sam references it in 7.17 Born-Again Identity "It's all Snake oil, Dean." in reference to faith healers. Although Serpessence makes no claims of being a Cure All it does say in the infomercial that it's literal "Snake oil" as in juiced snakes. Also it lists the many amazing health effects of using olive oil and of massage therapy. The title of last chapter "The Only Cure All" is Love. Shut up with your awwing! Obviously no one cares how much effort I put into these fudging titles...  
Bonus #1: I would have accepted Misha's Twitter, his facebook, I'm sure it's been on Tumblr, or best answer? IN MY DREAMS. HE NEEDS TO SELL THIS...  
Bonus #2: His secret is Serpessence. Using it for the oil for the hash browns. Or NOT LEAVING HALF THE FUDGING POTATOES RAW, EVER FUDGING TIME if you've gone to Denny's... No instead I have to take them home and cook them myself...  
Well, since I've bitched at you poor jerks for a page and a quarter, how about we get to the story?

"Hey, Sam, Do you think we could stop at the cemetery first?" Stiles tried to sound casual as he stared out the window, but he could feel Sam's eyes on him.

"Uh, yeah sure. You want to stop and get some flowers first?" Stiles shook his head, dreading Sam's cautious tone.

"There's a shop next to the Cemetery..." Scott put a hand on his shoulder and Stiles patted his hand, looking back to give a reassuring smile before returning to talk to Sam. "The owner gives me freebies at this point."

"Stiles, have you always had a dry kinda dark sense of humor, or should I be worried...?" Sam asked, masking his concern with a casual smile.

"Mostly yeah. The Dark part often involves death, danger, and mayhem. Or you know, assholes and my impending endless virginity. So yeah, it's fairly normal." Sam nodded, still worried about Stiles' mood but allowing him to cope as he pleased. "But I wasn't joking. I'm seriously pretty tight with the guy at this point. I've been going for a long time. Even before my dad died he gave me free flowers sometimes. He's a really nice older guy. Funny. Partially senile I think..."

"That's... Nice, Stiles..." They came up on a small flower shop just short of the cemetery. Stiles pointed to the small empty parking lot.

"You can just pull in there." Sam did so, pulling into a random space. Stiles hopped out as if at home. Scott and Sam Climbed out semi-casual-awkward, like one normally would when at a store. When they got through the door, Sam was shocked at what he saw. _Death._ Literally. Sympathetically smiling at Stiles, hand on his shoulder. Then Stiles says something witty and he laughs. And as Sam walks closer he can hear Death speak.

"Ah, Stiles, you so very much remind me of my grandson. I've never had a grandson you know? So, quite the treasure you are." In that posh voice, like Irish cream. Stiles smiled genuinely, wide meeting his eyes, and toothy, with a small giggle beneath it.

"Yeah, so you've said. But stop about me. How're you holding up? Shop doing well?" Death shrugged and turned (back) to some planted flowers.

"Death is business sadly." Death said without hesitation or feeling. "You're not here just to see little old me, I assume. What can I get you today, my boy?" Stiles shrugged.

"What do you have, boss?" Death turned his attention to Stiles again.

"Well, I've gotten a shipment of signet marigolds; I have an order of Calla Lilies a customer no longer wants; I was just out yesterday picking some buttercups, they always end up withering away on my counter; I just acquired a Oleander plant but I'd prefer to sell it as a plant rather than just a bouquet." Stiles thought on it a bit, but decided to just accept the buttercups, knowing the man would give him his flowers free and that the other options could make the old man quite a bit of money. But he didn't have a chance to voice his decision. "Oh, how could I forget? Never mind any of those. I came across something you'd love. It was growing right along the side of the building out in the shade. Come." Death seemed to finally note Sam's presence but just motioned for him and Scott to follow as well. Again when Sam entered Death was already talking with Stiles. "-weed so it's not much sought after, but it's very famous. It's a variation of Nightshade known as Bittersweet, Bittersweet Nightshade, or Blue Bindweed." Stiles cut in.

"It's harmful to werewolves isn't it...? Supposedly, you know if they exist. According to lore?" Death seemed careful not to shift his gaze to Sam or Scott.

"The only definitive affect it has on them, according to lore, is that they can not trespass against it. And that it's cousin 'Deadly Nightshade' or _Atropa Belladonna_, is said to be able to kill humans and werewolves alike with the digestion of a single leaf. This little lovely could only make you sick unless you ate a lot of it, although they're said to have the same protective qualities. It doesn't ward, it only keeps away those that mean harm, according to most lore. It is said to allow for communication with the dead, and is connected to the Greek messenger god Hermes, and is said to give protection from evil or ill will being a flower of the goddess of witchcraft Hecate... It also has medicinal properties, except for the berries- other than a purgative that is." Stiles was fascinated by both the explanation of the plant and the convenience of its discovery. "I transplanted a few of the plants, although no one will likely want them. I also snipped a few for you, figuring you'd like them to leave for your parents..." Stiles nodded and accepted the two branches, mindful of the beautiful flowers, still staring at one of the potted plants, now tied to a trellis.

"Thanks, but uh, would you mind if I bought the plant when we come back from the cemetery?" Death seemed to think about it, only for a moment, barely paying Sam a glance.

"No, of course not."

"That'll be like ten fifteen bucks, including the pot, right?" Death shook his head.

"It's a weed, the pot is cheap plastic, for me to charge you that much would be absurd." Stiles smiled.

"It seems fair to me, but hey, you can put the rest on my tab, huh?"Death shook his head, before nodding and shooing the boys out of the back room.

"Yes, yes, now go on. Quit dillydallying. Your father always hates it when you get held up with mindless conversations, now won't be any different. Say hello for me." Stiles patted Death's arm before heading for the door with Scott. Sam stayed in the shop.

"Uh, you two go on ahead. I'll catch up, I want to ask about those buttercups..." The boys left and Sam turned to Death and nodded awkwardly. "Hey, I guess... But um... What exactly are you doing here?"

"I've had this shop for years... This is the longest I've been up without serious _business_. Did you boys think I just sit in some corner until I was needed? I get bored too. I enjoy flowers. It's good business. I'm the one who should be asking about your presence." Sam nodded, conceding that the explanation did indeed make sense.

"Uh, Dean- and Cas, they moved into town just a week ago. They arranged to adopt Stiles after his father passed. I came to help them get settled, mostly to get out of the bunk- uh, house..." Death gave him a look.

"And how are your 'roommates'? Drive you mad yet?"

"You're aware of my living situation?" Death smirked at him.

"Aware? 'Satan's vessel living with the old Devil and the new Devil': I'm waiting for you to sell the film rights for a sitcom. Some reapers were making bets on how long you'd last." Sam sighed and rubbed his face.

"I don't suppose you know how to sedate archangels and demons...?" Death raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"I've never had the need. If I had to guess, I'd say roofie them with each others' blood, but that could have very negative side effects. With Lucifer, flirting would probably suitably disarm him, but that would most likely just egg Crowley on. I suggest just salting and putting angel warding sigils in your room whenever you need some alone time." Sam sighed, sounding annoyed.

"Oh, trust me, I have..." Death laughed.

"I'm sure the boys are waiting for you." Sam sighed but nodded and gestured to the buttercups. Death took them from their vase and made two bouquets, each with paper wraps tight around the stems.

"That's ten." Sam gave a stunned look.

"Dollars?! I thought you said no one would buy them!?" Death smirked.

"Because they're ten dollars..."

"That's obscene!"

"How else did you think I did well enough to allow freebies to my favorite clients?" Sam huffed angrily but took out his wallet and paid the man. When he came out the boys started walking just on the other side of the fence. The fence with, Sam discovered, a locked gate... He decided to just jump it, as he assumed the boys had and caught up, avoiding walking on any graves. Stiles accidentally bumped into a young kid (their age, Sam noted) that seemed to work there, not be visiting. Stiles turned, a gentle hand on the other kid's shoulder making sure he hadn't knocked the boy off balance.

"Sorry, uh..." Stiles snapped his fingers and pointed, wagging his finger. The universal sign of _'I'm so sorry, I know your name, I swear, just give me a second.'_

"Isaac." Stiles gave a sheepish smile and patted his shoulder softly as Scott started pulling him backwards.

"Right, Sorry, man." Isaac nodded. Sam noted three things. A- He was pretty sure the kid was in a permanent state of not okay._ Probably abuse_ Sam thought. B- The kid definitely checked out Scott. C- The kid was half used to Stiles' awkwardness, judging by how he shook his head once Stiles had turned away, implying Stiles probably had a reputation, either in the town or in his school. All fairly pointless observations. Except maybe the first.

"You know him?" Sam asked as they walked. Stiles shrugged _kinda._ "From here?" Stiles shook his head.

"Uh, no, school. He goes to school with us, I think. Seen him around." Scott rolled his eyes.

"Yes, he does go to school with us. Actually I'm pretty sure he's on the team." Stiles now rolled his eyes back at Scott's attitude. The way they argued, Sam wasn't surprised Dean was worried.

"Ya know, I'm pretty sure he was checking you out. I can get you his number if you want." Scott whipped his head to give Stiles a look.

"What!? NO! I like Allison! I don't want anyone else's number!" Stiles held his hands up jokingly in surrender, a smirk on his face.

"I'm just saying, if it doesn't work out, I'm here to point out your options." Scott huffed and crossed his arms, but speaking in a slight, dog-like, pining whine.

"I don't want options, I want Allison..." Stiles gave a small laugh, and threw an arm around Scott's shoulder.

"I know, buddy. I know." They got to the graves and Scott hung back, leaning against a tombstone. There was a medium sized, short, grave marker/tombstone where Stiles' mother was buried. Sam shamed himself for noting she wasn't cremated. Her grave marker was 1'x 8", raised a foot from behind but only a half in the front, presenting her name, life span, and an inscription that Sam was too used to being in a cemetery to think to read on a 10"x1' placard naturally made by its shape. Off the bottom right corner, slightly over where the grave would've been dug, was a granite slab, with a steel plaque bolted to it, and a safe built into it. Sam must have had a questioning look, because Stiles explained. "My Dad got cremated... He had wanted to be buried with my mom, So the force got the cemetery to agree to this and paid for it. I think he'd probably love it. You know, accept the being dead thing... And the fact that somebody keeps stealing their flowers." Stiles having said all the stones and remains he had wished to, led the two off, waiting for Sam to place his own bouquets down and tell the stones they raised a sweet kid, and that he'd be sure his brother didn't screw him up.

None noticed anyone watching them go from the tree line.


	18. Dad's a name you haven't earned yet prt1

Kitty: Of course you got that vibe. When don't you get that vibe? You put more sexual connotation onto things than Freud. But yes, they at the very least sexually harass him; you could make a pretty good case for sexual assault if Sam chose to file charges. But they also prank him, and scare away all of his dates. Gabe has chipped in also, when in town.

Cassie: Thank you for noticing! It's adapted from the title of the book Death of a Salesman . I've never read it but Arthur Miller is a great author- a true artist, everything I've read by him has made me sort of homicidal- and I've heard it's confusing and depressing to the layperson. So I recommend it. Today's title is a little trickier. It's from lyrics, and the break line before the story starts will be the following verse except one word. Also, yes, I figured death hangs over Beacon Hills like a blanket over a bird cage, and he seems the type to like plants, and it's funny, so bah. And to answer your other questions, yes Derek is stalking the Stiles. But he was not the one watching them. It should be a bit of a conundrum. If you wouldn't have asked I would have let everyone think it was Derek until I cleared it up, if I clear it up. Good question. And no I'm not telling who it is and I will not respond to guesses.

Snidget: No, they were murdered during coitus, They will never have another scene. *chokes to death on sarcasm* _See what ya did? Now I'm dead. Yeesh, people..._ Yes, obviously they'll have more scenes. They're married so obviously they will be Destiel scenes. This is after all a Destiel fic and a Sterek fic. It's a Sterstiel fic. Kinda.

_.~.you'rejustanassholewithatemper.~._

Stiles spotted Isaac as they walked back and started the trek to the guy. The case of the disappearing flowers was really pissing him off and if he was just being a dick about the cemetery cleaning up, he wanted to know. "Isaac! Hey! Hey, Isaac! Hold up a second, man!" Stiles' calls finally reached Isaac's ears. The other teen scanned the area, features relaxing slightly when he found Stiles making his way across what of the graveyard was between them. Stiles closed the last 20 or so feet and gave him a nod.

"Hey uh- Stiles... Right? What's up?" Stiles gave a nod and gave his best wondering voice.

"Hey, You don't pick up old flowers or anything, right?"

"Um, no I never do, unless their like rotting and my dad told me to. But I can count on one hand the number of times that has happened. They usually just dry up. I can't see my dad doing that, but I wouldn't really know-" Isaac's dad clapped a hand onto Isaac's shoulder, surprising both of them. Stiles definitely noticed the way Isaac jumped. He tried not to glare or at the very least not sneer at the man. Isaac reacted to his father's harsh pat as Scott had sometimes when they were young and his father would yell. Isaac seemed like a sensitive kid, but Stiles knew he didn't like Isaac's father, even having only observed his mannerisms on a few occasions. When he wasn't face to face with someone, he had a deep hateful mean sneer, and when he was face to face with you, he was just a seven layered dip of 'fake asshole'.

"I'm sure you wouldn't, son. Who's this, friend of yours?" The man asked, sickly sweet smile. Isaac mouth kind of stuttered for a few seconds, so Stiles spoke up, trying to keep his detest out of his throat as much as possible.

"Yeah, kinda; we're on the lacrosse team together." If voices could hold glares, Stiles' did. And then his eyes did, noticing Mr. Lahey look him up and down skeptically.

"Uh-huh, and what can we do for ya, son?" Stiles straightened up a bit, momentarily unable to hide his upset.

"Don't call me son." Stiles replied firm and quick. Not an angry bite but not leaving room for opposition. He added after a moment to enjoy the pissed look on the man's face, still firm. "Please." _I'd like to see you try to hit me, you arrogant coward. _Stiles gave a calm breath. "I was asking if you guys have started to pick up old flowers. Twice now the flowers I've left for my parents have gone missing. It's not a problem, I was just wondering if it was just a grounds keeping thing." The anger on the old man's face calmed when he said 'parents', and he just shook his head, but didn't raise his smile or give his cheery voice again.

"No, sorry. We'll be sure to contact you if we notice any suspicious activity."

"Right, thanks, Bye..." Stiles gave Isaac's arm a soft nudge. "See you at school, Isaac."

"Sorry about your dad, by the way... Hope you're doing okay." Mr. Lahey offered as Stiles moved to walk off. Stiles turned to give a small look to the man.

"Oh, don't worry about me. Still have a _lot_ of my dad's old coworkers as friends... to help me through it." Stiles' point seemed to get across, because the man looked shaken, and for the first time Stiles had ever seen Lahey was gentle, not at all harsh, with his son. He gave his son a soft pat as if he'd never see him again, his voice a soft rumble, as if Stiles had made a direct threat on their lives.

"Isaac, go back to the counter for me..." Isaac was startled and momentarily shaken, trying to figure out if he should be scared _(of his father_ Stiles noted mentally_)_ but decided to just nod and run off to the small hut/shack/cabin/whatever off the gate of the cemetery, as he was told. Stiles gave a look that said _'Yeah, maybe you should think about how much you care about having him the next time you think about treating him like shit...' _Stiles didn't realize how fast his pulse was until he was clutching the fabric of Scott's hoodie as Lahey watched them walked off. Of course Scott was too dense to see what was happening, but Stiles knew Sam knew as well as he when Sam put a large hand on his back, on his shoulder blade. It was more protective than anything; Sam didn't rush Stiles (who was dragging Scott, who was trying to walk at a casual pace), and he looked over his shoulder to make sure Lahey was staying where he was. They were both calmed down by the time they got back to the fence by the store. Stiles hurried ahead to duck inside and get his new plant. When he hopped into the car an interesting question popped into Sam's head.

"Hey, Stiles? What's your shop owner friend's name?" Stiles face didn't give any hint of knowing when he said:

"Mors." Sam nodded, casually.

"That's an interesting name..." Stiles nodded. "What's it mean?" Stiles shrugged now.

"It's Norwegian for 'mother'. He said it's a family name." Sam just nodded, swallowing his snickering.

Once they'd gotten to the ice cream place, it was cloudy so Stiles just left the plant on his seat so it would get the softened sunlight. But of course by the time they'd ordered and got to a booth, the sun was out and harsh. Stiles gave a sigh. "I'm gonna go move that before it burns to death, I'll be back." Stiles licked the ice cream that had started to melt as soon as it had been scooped. _But God was it worth it._ He continued until he got to the car and made quick work of moving it to the shaded backseat. Once he'd closed his door he turned back to the ice cream parlor, while taking a lick of the ice cream only to hit his nose with it in shock, which made the man leaning against the wall beside the front door smile.

He gave a little wave. Stiles just wiped his nose while trying to simultaneously hide his blush.

"Did you follow us here?!"

Derek gave a nonchalant shrug, still smiling. He checked out Stiles shortly, smile turning into a smirk. Stiles could have died, right there.

"So, first you ignore my texts and now you're stalking me. Has anyone ever told you you're bipolar?"

Derek made a thinking look, as if actually going over all the things people had called him. It surprised Stiles a little when he talked, but Stiles gave a hard swallow at the rich soft timbre of his voice, like velvet.

"My third grade teacher..." Stiles tried to think about how that could possibly come up but shook his head, realizing he didn't care enough about knowing the context as much as he was sure it would fuck his mind. He walked forward, but stopped just short of arms reach and leaned back to lean against the hood of the car.

"You know, stalking your underage potential chew toy to a family ice cream outing isn't really a prime example of a good idea when werewolf hunters are trying to track you down... It's also a bit creepy." Derek took the final step to allow them to share personal space, and Stiles didn't really mind looking up at him so they could be that close. Derek still smirked, looking at Stiles as if prey. In a playful way.

"I'm hurt that you think we aren't to 'chew toy' status yet." Stiles smiled bashfully.

"This early? You'd have to get a bottle of Jack into me first..." Derek laughed softly, letting his teeth show a bit.

"Well, I do kind of owe you one, but seeing as you're underage, as you mentioned..." Stiles laughed the same way.

"Uh-huh, that would be very... _impish_ of you..." Stiles glanced through the glass door to Sam, who was watching them cautiously. "You should come in... I'm sure Sam would love to meet the infamous guy crawling through my window at night. Tell me, is it less awkward if my foster uncle threatens you first, or should we just give Dean the honor?" Derek looked to Sam and lost his smile for a second before smirking back at Stiles.

"As great as that agonizing torture sounds," He tapped Stiles' knee with a finger. "I actually showed my face to tell you I'm going to be busy for the rest of the day. I'll try to text you tomorrow, at some point. Maybe I could come by...?" Stiles shook his head.

"Scott is staying the weekend, and we always sleep together." Derek quirked an eyebrow at that.

"Should I be jealous?" Stiles gave an amorous smirk at that.

"Oh, god, yes... That'd be even hotter than the stalking thing..." Derek caught that Scott was watching and gave a smirk. He leaned in and gifted Stiles with a small peck, only half on the mouth, more on the corner. When Stiles opened his eyes again, Derek was gone. He sighed at the inevitable loss of that sexy feeling as he slurped the melted ice cream that was about to run down his cone before going back in. If there was a spring in his step he'd never admit it. He sat down only for Scott to give him a hard shove that would've made him slip off the seat of the leather booth, if Scott hadn't quickly grabbed his arm.

"Crap, sorry..." he muttered before just shoving him again once he'd gotten back into his seat, although not as hard. "What wrong with you?!" Stiles rubbed his shoulder and growled back in a whisper.

"Virginity, Scott, that is what's wrong with me; which I am trying to remedy, much to your apparent girlfriend having disapproval!" Scott gave a bit of a puppy face as he argued back.

"But- he- You said yourself he's creepy!" Scott whined, knowing he can't give any other reasons in front of Sam.

"I said the stalking me thing was creepy, which I also said was hot." Sam just covered his face with his hand as a woman moved her children to put a booth between them. "And I'd like to point out, it's not half as creepy as you eavesdropping on me flirting!" Scott scoffed.

"If that's flirting I'd hate to know your idea of a date!"

"We'll it wouldn't be ditching him in the middle of a party!" Scott gaped at Stiles.

"You're such a bitch!" He hissed under his breath.

"And you're a jerk." Stiles bit back. Scott glared at him.

"Yeah, well, you're a dick." Scott muttered and went back to picking at his small sundae.

"And you're an asshole. That's why we work best together." Stiles smirked as Scott tried to laugh silently. Even Sam gave a snicker.

"You guys realize you're in an ice cream parlor... with children." Stiles nodded.

"That's why Scott keeps whispering like an idiot. Children have ears too Scott." Scott glared and shoved Stiles again.

"Shut up and eat your ice cream..." Stiles snickered.

"So, that's the guy?" Stiles nodded at Sam's question.

"I told him to come say hi, but it's a bit soon for you guys to start threatening him." Sam quirked an eyebrow.

"Why do you think I would've threatened him?" Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Oh, your nod may have said _'hi buddy'_ but the glare in your eye said _'try anything and I will kill you'_." Sam scoffed lightly.

"Okay, but I wouldn't have threatened to kill him or anything..." Stiles nodded eating his ice cream.

"I'm sure, that seems more like Dean's thing." Stiles took another big lick of his ice cream. "But he said he was busy anyway. It's a shame." Once they'd all finished eating, they made the awkward walk to the car. The drive home was fairly comfortable.

"I don't know why I have to sit back here with your stupid, creepy plant..." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Is the nightshade making you uncomfortable Scotty?" Scott huffed, sitting pressed to the door.

"No..." Stiles nodded.

"Right, then stop brooding. It's not going to bite you." Scott glared at the plant.

"You don't know that for sure. He said it's supposed to ward off werewolves."

"He said it'd ward off, OR calm, aggressive werewolves. We don't even know if it'll work for that. Do you plan on being aggressive?" Scott shook his head. "Then don't worry about her, okay?"

"Her? What, are you going to name it too?"

"_Her_ name is Lydie." Scott rolled his eyes.

"Why? You like Derek now."

"Because she's beautiful and perfect and awesome just like Lydia. And liking Derek doesn't make me dead. Lydia is my pedestal girl. Perfect in every way and _way_ out of my league." Scott gave him a look. "Not that Derek isn't out of my league, or perfect... He's just interested in me. Thus the difference..." Sam smiled, happy that somehow the Winchesters were semi-normal for once.


	19. Dad's a name you haven't earned yet prt2

*Don't do this!

_.~.knockingmyselfoutwouldbeapleasure.~._

Scott got out of the Car as soon as they pulled up to the house. Stiles got out just after, and followed Scott, carrying the plant. Sam followed not far behind, so he was surprised when he ran into Stiles, who stopped just a few feet into the house. He held Stiles' shoulders to insure the boy was standing stably before he looked into the family area to see what the two had stopped for. Lucifer kneeled on a chair looking over the back at the boys.

"Crowley, look, Dean and Cas did get a kid! Aw, it has hair and a face and everything..." He looked to Crowley who was sitting on the couch. "We should get one!" Crowley shrugged.

"Don't look at me. Moose's the human one, ask him." Lucifer turned back to look at Sam giddily.

"Please, can we make one Sammy!? It'll be fun. You already have a mom car anyway." Sam made a confused face.

"What? No! First of all, that's not how reproduction works. Second, you aren't going to _make it work_ in any way, shape, or form, so get that out of both of your heads right now. Third, you can't just 'have' a fully grown child, you have to raise it, and you kind of have to _like_ humans to raise one. Fourth, no one would allow us to adopt a child, including me. That just screams bad idea. Fifth, it is _not_ a _mom car_! Lastly, how did the two of you manage to break in?" Lucifer gave a _'Come on Sammy'_ look and sat back down in his seat.

"We missed you and were bored. It was either kill each other or stalk you." Stiles put the plant on the stairs then sat on them, only for Scott to cautiously follow.

"I assume you know these guys then?" Stiles asked semi-casually. Crowley answered the boy instead of Sam.

"Spot on deduction, Sherlock, be sure to make yourself a medal..." He grumbled it into his coffee but Stiles looked to Sam.

"I was trying to be tactful, but since I'm the only one: What's the deal with you and the sociopaths?" Sam sighed.

"Stiles, Scott, These are my roommates Crowley, and Lucif- uh, Luci, who Dean mentioned." Stiles nodded but Lucifer piped up.

"Dean mentioned me? How nice. He and Cas seem to be doing well, By the way." Sam shot him a suspicious look.

"Are they doing well while _alive?_" Lucifer gave a small chuckle and Crowley answered.

"M-hm... A tad more than usual actually..." Sam gave a half suspicious, half confused look, so Lucifer clarified.

"They've got an HBO type thing going on upstairs." Stiles made a noise. "Sammy, if he's allowed to defile my baby brother, I should be allowed to defile his." Sam took a small step away from Lucifer at this point.

"Yeah, well, you see the difference there is _your little brother_ is willing. His is not..." Lucifer gave a pout.

"I could get you to say yes."

"_No._"

"That's _so_ unfair, Sammy!"

"Tough." Lucifer pulled his legs up and just made a sulking face at the wall. "I suppose you won't talk to me now?" Lucifer turned his head 90 degrees to look as much away from Sam as he could, same look still on his face. "And I guess I should take this to mean that you refuse to leave?" Lucifer put his head back to look up at the ceiling. "_Right_..." Sam went over to Crowley's side of the coffee table and started fixing up the mess the two had made of the magazines and to pick up their garbage and plates. "So, why are you here Crowley? You usually do fine with not having me around.- _Stop. Looking. Where I know. You're looking._" Sam turned holding the two foam plates to see Crowley rolling his eyes. He gave a small exasperated sigh. "Nice to know I have at least one of you trained..."

"Actually, I'm quite glad not to be around you for a while every now and again, Moose. But I don't enjoy being _home _alone, and I couldn't talk Lucifer out of a paper bag, so here I am- partner in crime." Stiles looked at Sam as he stopped in his stride to the kitchen. Crowley smirked into his coffee cup. "_Oops..."_ Stiles raised both eyebrows.

"You live with someone named- no, no. You _KNOW_ someone named _Lucifer_?" Stiles looked to Lucifer now. "Were your parents hardcore Satanists or something?" Lucifer threw his head back against the seat, failing at holding in laughter. Crowley even smirked... Stiles looked back to Sam. "I feel like your real name is probably Aziraphale and I'm having a dream because I fell asleep reading..." Crowley chuckled now.

"Not quite, but close. If you'd like me to sign though, I always love a fan." Stiles looked from Crowley to Sam, Not understanding.

"Oh, you really were the inspiration for that?" Lucifer broke his silence to ask. "The author one of yours?"

"Not a demon, but an associate of mine." Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

"Not a _Pagan_, I hope..." Crowley shook his head.

"But I'd never kiss and tell, love."

"Wait, just wait. _Demon? Pagan?_ Sam, what the hell's going on?" Lucifer rolled his eyes.

"Ugh, I'm Lucifer- Yes, the one that pops to mind. Crowley here is Acting and Current Devil. By 'Pagan' I mean a pagan god. I'm not fond of _those_."

"Why not?" Scott asked as Stiles just gaped not knowing what to say.

"Because they're vile, vain, petty, little, parasitic wastes of life, who use the little power they have to enslave the powerless, and are ultimately worse than human kind." Scott mulled that over a second before just nodding.

"Well, they do kinda sound like jerks." Lucifer just stared at Scott a second before looking to Crowley.

"I almost _don't_ want to kill him. What's happening and how do I stop it?" Crowley sighed.

"That's because he's pleasant. Like a baby dog. Usually they'll stop paying you mind if you give them something soft and furry to teethe on. Usually it helps if it's roundish." Sam tried to correct Crowley and tell Lucifer it was an analogy, and that teenagers didn't chew on soft furry things, even if they did have the disposition of a puppy, but he'd disappeared. He looked at Crowley, exasperated and pissed.

"Why the hell would you tell him that? You know he knows about as much about people as Cas used to!"

"So he'll bring home a dog toy. What's the harm-" Sam growled.

"No, you know what? _Shut up._ You're not allowed to talk anymore. If you do, I'm gonna cut out your tongue and I won't give it back! And if he brings anything _bloody_ back, _you're getting rid of it_!" Crowley looked slightly perturbed by the outburst.

"You wou-"

"_Ah!_ NOT A WORD." Crowley wanted to argue, but decided it was best to let Sam calm down and go back to reading. Sam turned to the boys to see how they were dealing with the information, only to see Stiles staring at Lucifer's chair kind of befuddled.

"_He disappeared..._" Sam nodded in response and tried to speak as gently as possible.

"Yeah... Yeah, he did. Are we dealing with that alright..?" Stiles just shook his head, very softly.

"Why does everyone say I'm a dog?" Scott asked with the slightest look of irritation.

"_Because you're a dog born into a human's body, now shut up I'm trying to process this shit..._" Scott gave a tiny huff, and Sam let Stiles sit in silence for a minute or two.

"Uh, Stiles...? Are you okay with this yet...?" Stiles finally blinked and shook his head, as if to clear it and give an answer.

"Uh, no. No we are not, and we probably never will be, so, uh, yeah, I'm just going to pretend this never happened and if anyone ever mentions it I will ignore them. I'm gonna go do the dishes and then maybe drill a hole in my skull and pour some bleach in.*" Stiles got up, took the plates and walked to the kitchen. Sam looked back to see Lucifer plopping something vaguely the size of a small watermelon and rather roundish, with grayish-brown fur onto Scott's lap, and momentarily Sam had a heart attack, assuming it was something dead, until Scott smiled, heaving it into his arms.

"Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Scott buried his face in the large rabbit's fur, and Lucifer seemed relieved as he went back to sit down. Sam sighed with relief.

"Luce." Lucifer looked to him expectantly. "Crowley is banned from talking, please leave him alone." Lucifer gave Crowley a mocking smirk, but looked back to Sam and nodded in approval. Sam mouthed a 'thank you'. He rolled his eyes, sensing more trouble as he heard two sets of footsteps descend the stairs. Dean first glanced at Scott on the stairs to the landing he and Cas were on, then gave Sam a smile, and then caught sight of the two Devils. He gave Sam a bitch face.

"Why?" He whined, just a little bit. Then his face scrunched up and he sneezed softly into his arm. He looked back down at Scott. "Scott... Not that I'm not overjoyed to see you, but why do you have a giant rodent?" Scott just shrugged and Sam sighed again.

"Lucifer apparently doesn't want to kill Scott because he's nice, and it annoyed him, Crowley said he was like a puppy and that Lucifer should get him something 'round, soft, and furry' so he'd leave him alone. And Lucifer disappeared and came back with that." Sam looked to Scott. "Dean isn't very fond of rabbits." Dean cleared his throat, giving Sam a look.

"Ix-nay on the Ucifer-Lay..."

"At's-thay ot-nay oper-pay ig-pay atin-lay." Scott said looking back at Dean. "Los-Ay Iay an-cay derstand-unay actly-exay hat-way our-yay aying-say." Dean raised his hand.

"Okay, okay. Point taken, smartass." Scott smiled and went back to nuzzling the rabbit. Sam's amused and exasperated voice broke the temporary silence.

"Crowley and Lucifer spilled the beans on who they are..." Dean looked down and then back up at Sam.

"And he's alright?" Dean whispered.

"Scott didn't seem at all phased by it, but uh... _Stiles..._" Scott cut in, much to Sam's relief.

"Stiles freaked out a bit. I think Lucifer disappear is what was finally too much. He's pretending it didn't happen. He does that when he has an information-overload over something that's unimportant but mind shattering. When we were kids, he'd look up like everything about something, and it'd get to the point where it was mind-blowingly fascinating or to where it unfathomable to comprehend the odds it took for that thing to develop, and he'd just shut down and pretend none of it exists. That's actually why he's secretly not agnostic." Scott pet the rabbit as it started to squirm from not getting attention. "To this day, you can't say anything about Mercury, Saturn, or Pluto and have him respond in anyway. He refuses to name more than 6 planets, although he will admit there are 9, or in some people's opinion 8." Dean blinked a few times before looking back to Sam.

"Okay, why are they here?" Dean asked pointed at the two in the living room. Lucifer sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Bored, lonely, and Crowley doesn't like being in the Bunker alone." Dean descended from the landing as Stiles came back in and made his way to the arm chair opposite Lucifer and adjacent to Crowley. Cas followed behind Dean, but gave his sleeve a tug once at the bottom. Dean looked back.

"Dean, I believe this is a good reason to invite Adam over..." Dean replied immediately.

"No." Cas frowned.

"Why not?"

"You know why. He won't come without Michael, and I'm not having that prick over here." Dean huffed and looked towards Lucifer. "That one wouldn't be here if he'd stop breaking in, and he's never thrown anything at me while visiting!"

"You were the one who started throwing things, Dean."

"I threw him a pillow!"

"No, you threw a pillow AT him. You specifically aimed for his face, and threw it so hard it knocked the vase over when he ducked." Dean sneered.

"Still, he didn't have to try to assassinate me with the dust pan. He nearly broke my nose."

"It split your lip; you're being dramatic, he was obviously holding back very much." Dean huffed.

"I still don't like him. He didn't even ask permission to marry Adam." Cas sighed.

"Adam is a grown man, by human standards. They waited nearly 780 years. And if he were to seek anyone's blessing, I assume it would've been Adam's mother's 'permission'. And besides, you did not ask my father permission." Dean scoffed.

"Because A-you never actually met him. B- he's a dead beat. And C- no one knows where he is." Cas rolled his eyes.

"Don't you miss Adam Dean? Wouldn't you like to see your own brother?"

"I'd love to see him but he knows how I feel about Mic. It's not like we don't talk." Stiles cut in.

"Uh, may I commentate as an objective spectator?" Dean stood a second, surprised Stiles was up to talking, let alone listening and thinking about their conversation. He nodded. "You really need to man up about this. That's your family, man. You shouldn't let a couple hours around someone who irritates you keep you from hanging out with someone you care about. If you do, aren't you kind of being a crappy bro, in at least a little way?" Dean sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Fine, tomorrow night, dinner, that's it. And those two are _not_ staying until then. I don't care where they go, they aren't staying in this house." Lucifer's shrugged and disappeared for a second; returning the next with a large, stiff, bag-like thing. Dean gave a questioning, slightly worried look.

"Sammy, we're borrowing your pop up tent and going out front. You should join us."

"Uh, yeah I'm not going to, because _I_ have a warm bed to sleep in upstairs, and I don't want to be in a tent with you two..." Lucifer gave him a look. "Not again anyways."


	20. Sympathy For The Vessel

Cassie: Quite! I love writing them, but I worry so about them being OOC. But I considered they'd been around each other for a while, and that's the influence I thought they'd have on each other.  
_**This chapter is to clear up their (Luc/Sam/Crowley) mutual connection, but it's mostly in a character study format. It's set about a year before the story line.**_  
As for the title, it's from a Nickelback song "Never again". Not a great song but those could lines of lyrics fit. And Stiles and Dean kind of have a scene to that effect, but it's more subtle. Dean doesn't want to have Adam over because Michael bugs him, and Stiles then questions his maturity and family values, leading Dean to buck up to be a better example. I mainly used the title for the scene with Mr. Lahey and Lucifer asking for a kid.

~.~.~.~

Lucifer had developed a small habit that he wasn't sure was healthy. It had only served to ruin him so far, but it was his to deal with in whatever way he wished and he chose to keep it, despite the problems it had caused. It really only called for a readjustment of priorities, although priorities really hadn't been a priority in years. His habit, his guilty pleasure if you care to call it such even if he wasn't guilty for it per se, was to care for Sammy Winchester. In every definition you could twist that into. His vise was to protect the boy, right every wrong bestowed upon him, to give him thought above all else, to take responsibility for him, to claim him as his own, and to look out for him anyway he could. Often times he became misguided in such attempts, but he genuinely felt he done right by the boy on several occasions, even if Sam saw otherwise. He wished to surpass his promise to never _really_ hurt Sam. He wanted to make him smile, at least once. He wanted to add a little rock to the plate of retribution on the scale reflecting how badly _he'd_ fucked up Sam's life and chances of ever being happy. Because really, _everything_ that had been done to lead Sam to him, it was all for _His_ squabble with _His_ brother. He'd told Azazel to find the baby, and prepare him. The demon didn't have to destroy his entire life, _twice._ Only the events as they occurred could have brought Sam to him, and he knew that all the way back then, _it was just before the human showed him he could care about it_. And look where the squabble ended up. Before at least he could lie to himself and say _"it will be worth it when we win, then I'll make him happy and it will all be worth it..."_. But it only landed the only two people he still really _loved_ in a Hell with in Hell. Ironically, for Sam. Not that he'd ever get any undeserved credit for his attempts. His many, _many failed_ attempts...

His first was to give Sam comfort, through the form of that woman he missed. He still never lied. But he tried to say anything he could to make Sammy feel better. Of course, Sam being as much of a smart little monkey as he is, He figured it out by Lucifer's second try. Still Lucifer tried to assure Sam he didn't have any ill intentions, but Sam was convinced Lucifer wanted nothing but to manipulate him.

Then he'd tried to explain why he had to do it, when he raised Death. Tried to reassure Sam that there wasn't anything he or Dean could do. Don't get him started on Dean. He wouldn't say Dean was a bad person. Sam loved him and if he was important to Sam, he was important to Lucifer to some degree. He let Dean get away with quite a bit, even if he liked Dean about as much as he likes humanity as a whole. All for Sammy. Of course he could only put up with so much, but Sam's love for his brother definitely intensified Lucifer's patience, and he could admit to himself he held some hint of fond affection for Dean in some faint familial way.

His next attempt to protect Sam was the day he'd killed his brother. Or at least so he thought. Those _Pagans_ thinking they'd kidnap _Sam_, _his_ _vessel_ without any repercussions. So, of course when Mercury called him he was enraged. He'd never really given much thought to the Pagans. Why would he? They were smart enough to stay out of his way, dumb enough not to be a threat. His Father never paid much mind to the Pagans for mostly the same reason. But those _fools_ actually considered killing the boys. They _were_ going to hurt Sam. Mercury had made such very clear. That was good of him, but he'd conspired to kidnap and hurt the Winchesters same as the rest. And he didn't want any of them to threaten Sam ever again. He wanted to send a clear message to anyone stupid enough to try. But Michael's tactics in getting Dean to say yes left Sam with little faith in Lucifer's promises, and with much fear of his power... He had only wanted Sam safe and away from those savages. And Gabriel gave up his life for some goddess.

The next time worth mentioning was the gift he thought Sam would genuinely appreciate. Of course he didn't. Not openly at least. Lucifer found Sam's compassion ever so cute, but sometimes it could be a real... _bummer._ This was when he gathered all the demons Azazel had used to twist and manipulate his poor Sammy, in their former forms. That part was probably unneeded though. He could have had them take some junk bodies. Dead or useless people. But if he had gotten to Brady before the boys had, oh would it have been a bonus. A _big_ bonus. It turned out to just an upset to Sam, partially because he hadn't known a few of them had been demons. But hey, if Lucifer could ever admit he was a screw up, his first and foremost, greatest over all track record of utter failure would be when it came to Sammy.

When comforting Sam was his downfall was the day of the fight. Dean pissed him off more than usual. Manipulating Castiel into hurting _Their _eldest brother. It really wasn't Lucifer's fault that he reacted with such a short temper. Sam knows he'd do the same if someone manipulated Adam into hurting Dean. He'd probably be willing to kill them. But Sam cared about Dean, so even then Lucifer wouldn't have _actually _killed Dean. He'd have come damn close but, that only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades right? But Sammy got sentimental. He became so upset, like his mind was flooding itself. It was the most wrong his and Sam's co-existence had felt since the ever so fateful night Sammy said yes. Maybe he should have blocked him out, pushed a little harder, but that was how you burned a good vessel right out... He just couldn't. What good would any of it have been if he ended up having to be alone, without Sammy? Some points just aren't worth proving.

Lucifer had worried that would be the last time he got his fix. Worried Michael would get back and take the chance to take Lucifer out with ease by attacking Sam instead. But no, His brother had tried to save him instead; Which led to the next incident in which Lucifer took care of Sam. Lucifer could be spiteful, petty, really hold a grudge. But Michael had always been the more truly wrathful one. And after they'd all fallen it truly showed. Luci had become a master of manipulating the cage to a good degree of comfort. He'd made sure that He and Michael were in a form most appealingly visible to the boys. Both of them as the only other vessels they'd taken; Michael as John when he was young, and Lucifer as Nick. He'd also kept the boys from being immediately physically torn up by the cage, but Michael didn't think of that. He only thought of Adam being unconscious because he'd taken the fall badly, and how Sam had thrown the four of them into the pit and "ruined everything". Lucifer tried to calm Michael down once the yelling became even slightly excessive, but Michael would never calm himself at Lucifer's request. His temper only escaladed. He tried to strike Sam, and Lucifer got in his path instead, fought with him instead. Michael gave him a good licking, mostly because he was trying to keep the fight tame, keep the boys (mostly just _Sammy_) safe, but he got the feeling Michael was holding back through the second half for the same reason, and he knew Michael held no concern for Sam's safety, not as upset as he was.

Lucifer kept up his habit in the cage. He kept Michael from hurting him, and when he wasn't he made sure Sam wasn't burning his own mind out. Yes, Lucifer had tortured Sam, to some degree, mostly psychologically or emotionally, very rarely did it get physical, and when it did, it was usually to give a welcomed break to his mind, between how gently Lucifer applied the pain and how Lucifer sweet talked him, it at most lured him into a false sense of security, and at least it allowed Luce to lull Sam into the closest thing to a nap you could get in the Cage, normally they'd always be plagued by nightmare to rot your very soul... But Lucifer could manipulate that, to give Sam rare little gems of hope in the form of dreams of visitations by loved ones, only comforting, never painful. Sam's favorite dream was when Lucifer took Dean's form. One dream Lucifer had noted Sam was particularly comforted by was sitting on their car, watching the stars, drinking some beers, reminiscing and laughing, Lucifer telling him in Dean's voice that he was doing just as he swore. It went on like that for 180ish years. His only comfort when Sam left was that Sam didn't have to suffer anymore... And that he could at least _try_ to reach out to Sam, through their bond, the mark his Grace had left on his soul. But just when he'd all most broken through to reach Sam, Cas took the connection, and he knew he'd never be able to reach out to Sam again. That is until he was out as well.

He didn't really come to until he was lowered onto his back. He remembered within a second. He was running. No. They got spit out of the cage. Violently. They were hurt, all three of them. Adam wasn't doing well and Michael was preoccupied with making sure he was okay. He said something about a hospital and to stay and that he'd come back. Lucifer's mind was blurry, he got confused, and all he could think about was Sam... He just started running and didn't stop until he was falling down those steps, landing against a large metal door. He blacked out until later. Someone kneeled over him, tapped his shoulder. _Sammy..._

_"_Nick?" He must have come up in Nick's body for some reason, but he could tell it felt different. He looked around as much as not moving his head too much allowed, he blinked in a daze. "_Lucifer?_" His eyes met Sam's and he gave a lazy smile, tried to lazily take his hand without thinking better of it. Of course Sam immediately pulled back. He looked away. Lucifer frowned. _'should be paying attention to me' _it was selfish but he wasn't 100% in his right mind. He reached out to grab the chest of Sam's shirts but only managed to latch onto his sleeve."Dean!- Cas, you up?!- Crowley, get out here!" Sam looked down to him again and he smiled. "Hey, Stay with me, you're okay..." Then there was someone else there. Lucifer looked at him, inside. A demon, Crowley, he was Lilith's most trusted, he'd helped Sam and Dean try to stop him and Michael. He tried to say hi but nothing came out. _He'd say it later. _But he gave a small smile before returning his stare to Sam.

"That who you look afraid it is?" Sam gave a short sigh.

"Help me get him inside?" Sam tugged his sleeve free of Lucifer's grasp, which made him pout but Sam removed his shirt and covered him. _He was naked?_

"Squirrel's gonna be pippy about this..." Sam positioned him to best carry him into the house.

"Are you going to help me out or not?" Crowley sighed and went down to pick up his legs so they wouldn't drag. They both did their best to lift him onto the couch, once they got there. He just cuddled up with the shirt. "Damn, why the hell is he so heavy?"

"If I had to guess I'd assume it's the wings..." They both were panting.

"I'm gonna get him some water." Sam hurried out of the room and Lucifer tried to stumble his way off the couch, only to collapse into Crowley's arms. Sam came back seconds later as Crowley was trying to get Lucifer to stay lying on the couch, Lucifer just trying to push him away and fall again. The second Sam was at his side trying to calm him Lucifer was clinging to him as if he was drowning.

"Don't leave again..." Was the best Lucifer was able to blurt out. Sam pressed him against to stop his struggling.

"It's okay; just let me take care of you..."

Maybe it could be okay. _Maybe it was his turn to be taken care of._


	21. TransformingPower of Hostility at Dinner

Kitty: Don't throw your phone. I like your phone. They do hate each other quite a bit, on every level, very personally, it goes much deeper than even resentment. They just plain don't like each other as people. They only get together for the sake of their broken crazy family. Lucifer's life story is sad, when a lot of the time he has good intentions. We all love and miss and feel bad and sad for our poor Luci.

Cassie: It's lovely until you think about how Sam saw all of those attempts. But yes. Gabe is not dead, but Luci didn't know that at the time. He does now. The show has basically established Gabe is alive, and that he was in hiding and has gone back into hiding. If we'll see him again is unknown. But yeah, I think that was a pretty good time for Luci to be OOC. He wasn't in his right mind, as he said. Crowley was my only worry but I think he was pretty good.  
UPDATE: Damn it Cass! I put this on the wrong story. How did you not notice that?

~.~.~.~

"So what if he's going to text you!? He's a jerk, and probably a murderer, and _a werewolf_. Ignore him!" Stiles scoffed as he changed for dinner.

"Why in God's name, other than that, should I ignore him? Have you _seen_ him? He looks like a Roman god, and he's into _me._"

"Because you're too good for him, or he's not good enough for you... However that goes." Scott pouted seeing he wasn't getting through to Stiles. "And so what if he looks like a Roman god? You look like a Greek god. That's way better." Stiles glared dully at Scott.

"I look like a Greek _goddess_. Not typically appealing if you're a guy." His phone buzzed and his eyes met Scott's. He lunged for the phone but Scott tackled him to the floor. Scott held the phone out of his reach as he struggled for it. Stiles barely heard footsteps climbing the stairs.

"COME ON! What happened to playing hard to get?! You're being pathetic!" Scott growled after being flipped over off of Stiles and pinned. He threw Stiles off and pinned him again. "Ha!" Just then Dean opened the door. He just rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You better have a good explanation." Scott gave no hint of fear, probably because he didn't realized how their position looked.

"I don't like Stiles' boyfriend." Dean quirked an eyebrow.

"And you decided to make him aware of alternate options?" Scott looked up and tilted his head in confusion.

"Huh?" Stiles took the chance to knee Scott in the groin, and then kick him off.

"Quit being a cockblock and give me the phone!" Scott kept Stiles at arm's length.

"No, Derek texted and I'm trying to convince Stiles to have some dignity!"

"I've been pathetic my whole life! If it'll get me laid, why stop now!?" Dean smiled slightly.

"Right. Scott, Come out here for a second will ya?" Scott looked at Stiles and then to Dean.

"Am I going to come back into this room alive?" Dean just nodded and made a _come on already _gesture. Scott gave Stiles the phone and went out into the hall with Dean. Dean pulled out him wallet, and pulled out a ten, giving it to Scott. "What's this for?"

"_That_ is for not liking his boyfriend." He pulled out a twenty and put it in the boy's hand. "_This _is for you to cockblock as long as possible. Yeah?" Scott smiled and nodded. Dean walked back down the hall and Scott went back into the room.

"What did he say?" Stiles smiled.

"'Hey'." Scott scoffed as he climbed on the bed to read with Stiles.

Stiles had texted back _"Hey. Wyd?"_ And only just got a reply.

_"Working out. Figured I'd check in b4 you assume I'm murdering ppl in my free time." Stiles gave a goofy smile as he replied._

_"I'm still not sure you don't." _Then he sent _"You working out at the gym?"_

_"I'm more the stay at home type."_ Scott blurted.

"Isn't he staying at his family's burnt down house? He doesn't even have a shower, he _must_ smell." Stiles was going to snap back at him but he gave a wondering look.

_"How do you bathe if you're staying at your family house?"_ Scott rolled his eyes but watched the phone, kind of wanting to know.

"_Creek. There's a spot nearby that's abt 5 ft deep. It's really clear and has a calm current."_ Stiles went a bit wide eyed.

_"You bathe in public... in a creek... out in the woods... au naturel?"_

"_Yes?_"

"_That is very nice. Yes, nice is the word I'm going with." _Stiles leaned away from Scott a bit, who peaked at the phone anyway, and typed another. "_I should join you some time. Sounds fun. Yes, fun is the word I'm going with." _Scott punched him in the shoulder.

"_This very quickly became kinda sexual. Although it is adding an odd pep to my exercising, wasn't really what I was going for when I started this work out._"

"_I'm sorry, would you like me to stop? It's mostly involuntary but I can actively try not to be lascivious when thinking about a downright beautiful human being bathing in a majestic manner."_

_"Not particularly, but for some reason I feel like Scott is reading this and I'd hate for him to judge me for being easy." _Stiles glared at Scott, who stuck out his tongue. "_Plus, I have to go bathe in a majestic manner. Cya"_ Stiles almost died. He got up and was down the stairs like a bolt of lightning. He waved at "Uncle Luc" and Crowley as he zipped by, and found Dean as he was setting the table in the dining room. "Dean! I need to go on a hike."

"What? When?" Dean looked at the boy in utter bewilderment at the odd request.

"Now, please? You don't mind right?" Dean gave an _are you serious _look.

"First of all, no, you're not going. Second of all you're an idiot, especially if you thought I'd say yes. Third, just why?" Stiles gave a pitiful whine.

"_Caaaaas!"_ Stiles cried with a deep whine.

"You're grounded, Stiles. A sudden unsupervised hike is not healthy for your concept of consequences and discipline." Cas called from the kitchen as he cooked. Dean suddenly shouted.

"Stiles! Why do you need to go for a hike?" Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Derek may or may not be bathing in a creek in the preserve on the other side of town..." Dean gave a face that let on that he was genuinely concerned and put his hands on Stiles' shoulders.

"You will either grow up to be very famous, or you will have seriously disturbing criminal record..." Sam scoffed as he came in, looking like he just got in from a run.

"Or if you truly become a part of the family, will be very famous for your seriously disturbing criminal record." Dean shrugged a little.

"Most of our records aren't true though." Sam laughed softly.

"Well, they're mostly true in some way, shape, or form. Just... out of context, really." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"As the son of a cop, I can honestly say I don't want to know." Sam nodded slightly.

"What were you two talking about it for then?" Stiles sighed and leaned against the table.

"I wanted to go for a hike in the preserve but _They_ will not allow me to." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Talk about out of context. He wants to go peep on lover boy, who apparently swims in a creek."

"Bathes." Stiles piped in shortly, not having really expected Dean to differentiate.

"That Derek guy, huh? I suppose you left out that you saw him just yesterday." Stiles gave Sam a _SHUT UP!?_ look but Dean already responded with an _is that so? _look of his own.

"When was this?" Dean addressed Stiles as a gesture of curtsey and mock respect, since anything he would say would be fact checked by Sam. Stiles sighed.

"When we went to get ice cream." Stiles said and stopped, now all too familiar with Dean's short direct answers, ask what he needs to know style of interrogation.

"Doesn't seem like the random ice cream on a Saturday type." Dean quipped flatly, all business. Stiles looked to Sam and sighed again. _Scott and his big ears._

"He followed us there." Dean didn't look anything close to _pleased_ with that.

"Okay... Why." Stiles didn't like being questioned/ordered like he was hiding something but he was and if he didn't give some answer it'd be obvious.

"He wanted to tell me he'd be busy this weekend and wouldn't be in touch until tonight. He wanted to surprise me in person because I got mad that he didn't get back to my texts after _you_ pointed a gun at him. Basically just stopped in to say hi." Sam piped in after him, a smirk on his lips.

"And a quite non-verbal _goodbye_." Dean went a little wide eyed in disbelief.

"Well, vague threat of murder really hasn't smartened him up huh?" Stiles growled out a sigh.

"It was a peck on the cheek. He was nothing but a gentleman. I invited him in to meet Sam, and even though Sam was making murder eyes at him, he said he would've but he was busy and had things to attend to. No need for murder or threats thereof." Dean raised an eyebrow.

"I'm more concerned that some shady guy just 10 years my junior is stalking my son!" He sassed. Stiles cleared his throat.

"Not to say I don't love you or Cas, or Sam for that matter; Hell, even 'Uncle... Luci' is growing on me; but a week ago you didn't even know me. You probably would've been shooting at me and Scott in the woods yourself. And I'm sure you wouldn't have missed. If you hadn't met me, and saw me and Derek with each other, you wouldn't assume he's shady, and we both know it. I'm sure you were more of a lady's man when you were his age, does that make you a bad husband, or father? No. You're just worried because you know we like each other and you think because he's older I can't take care of myself. But I can, and if I couldn't you can trust me to tell you if I need you. Or at least Cas. I promise. Now can we drop the stalking thing?" Dean smiled.

"Yeah... That was cute, but no. But tell you what, I _will_ check the kid out, and if I don't mind what I find, you... can... see him... _But_ until I do, limit it to _mostly_ phone. If he comes over he's got 7 minutes before I put a shell of rock salt into his chest. If he has the curtsey to use the door then I'll just toss his ass out. Understood?" Stiles sighed but knew that was as easily as Dean would accept it and nodded.

"Thank you..." He said begrudgingly. He almost missed Sam, out of the corner of his eye, getting hugged from behind by 'Uncle Crowley', Sam allowed it for a moment, even leaned into the embrace minimally, but gave his arm a pat-whack after a couple seconds, and Crowley gingerly pulled away, resting his hands on Sam's waist for a full second before pulling away to stand next to him. Stiles could assume Crowley kissed the back of Sam's neck or one of his shoulder blades, and he had to admit they, the three of them, were cute, at least from the hidden little affections he saw. He wasn't sure they were together but they were close, _something-ish,_ and he found it cute.

"Hello, boys." Dean rolled his eyes.

"What do you want, Crowley?" Crowley glared at Dean lightly and gave a spiteful smirk.

"To see the look on your face when I tell you your brother called and said they'll be here in-" Crowley paused and the doorbell rang. "Now." Dean went pale.

"Sam, answer the door." Sam smirked, although with a sympathetic undertone.

"No way…" Dean rolled his eyes and shoved his way past his brother heading for the door.

"Dean, try to be civil?" Cas called from the kitchen as he stalked towards the door. He rolled his eyes but gave a silent nod. As he neared the door he heard the young voice that made him fill with hostility towards the archangel.

"_I do not dislike him, I actively hate everything about him as a person. There is no resolution to be had. I cannot comprehend why in the world you'd continue dragging me to these _stupid _family dinners._" He could almost hear Adam sigh.

"_Because you're a part of my life and I want you to at least communicate with my brothers civilly. Plus coming over isn't just a _my family_ thing. Did you ever think maybe Cas wants you to come by? And Lucifer will be there. Sam's visiting. You have a nephew to meet. Are you really not going to enjoy it just over some stupid grudge because Dean didn't wanna be your vessel? I mean, after all, it worked out for the best._" Michael let out a frumpy huff on the other side of the door.

"_It's not because of that, I just find him utterly intolerable!" _Dean rolled his eyes and swung the door open.

"Right back at ya, dick…" He ground out only giving a momentary glare at Michael, now in the form of their father, when he was young. The two hadn't told Adam, but telling by how much the two held back as far as affection went while around the boys, they assumed it was a topic that didn't need to be visited. Adam fixed him with a fake hopeful smile though, and he returned a reassuring counter smile. "Hey kid, How's things?" He said, giving Adam a small hug and welcoming him in. He glared at Michael as he entered. Only for Sam to shove him slightly. It's not like Sam liked Michael, but he definitely tried harder than Dean to be nice to him. He shook Michael's hand, but that was the extent of their interaction. He then gave Adam an awkward hug.

"Hey. Everything good?" Adam smiled and nodded.

"Everything is great, guys. We're both doing great." Sam still gave the younger man a concerned look but he nodded.

"Oh, so that is a human thing…" The archangel muttered from behind him.

"What?" Dean snipped at him. Michael turned an inquiring look towards him that said '_Yes? I didn't say anything' _and Dean glared. Adam gave a roll of his eyes and elbowed Michael in the rib softly.

"Oh, this dick just always assumes my _emotions_ are me being over sensitive. We recently had a little bet about reassurances." Adam stepped on Dean's boot when he gagged just a bit.

"All I'm saying is I don't wanna know what the bet was for. You two are grosser than Sam and the devil. Take your pick as to which." Michael raised an eyebrow at the comment.

"What do you mean by that?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"Nothing!" Just then Crowley pinched him from behind, smirking. Sam grabbed his hand breaking a few bones.

"We really need to find the definition of 'nothing' for you, Darling." Sam glared at him.

"Who's given you permission to speak yet, hm? That hand goes anywhere near there again and I'll cut it off and keep it." Crowley rolled his eyes as Sam walked off with Dean, and followed along with Adam, and by effect Michael.

"You must be the least annoying of the Winchester brothers." Adam nodded slightly.

"Adam Milligan." Crowley kissed his hand.

"_Enchanté_Adam." Adam was about to ask for his name, but Crowley pulled Adam a few feet forward, a behavior Michael was about to correct violently when the reason became painfully apparent as Lucifer slammed into him. He will never admit he groaned from his place on the floor. He was surprised that Sam had come back to help them up though. Once up he brushed himself off and gave Lucifer an irritated look.

"_What_ was _that?_" Lucifer smiled at him.

"It's called a glomp. It's where you hug and tackle someone at the same time." Michael huffed at Lucifer's levity.

"And who led you to believe that was an acceptable greeting?" Lucifer gestured at Stiles and Scott, who were standing against the wall desperately trying not to lose their shit as they held in laughter. Stiles managed to clear his throat and gain some composure as Michael stepped over, but Scott kept snickering. "You must be the child."

"Not in a few years." Michael shrugged slightly.

"But comparatively…" Stiles scoffed slightly and raised an eyebrow.

"Dude, you're like 20." Michael paused a moment, not sure how to answer that. Dean started laughing and came over to put an arm around Stiles.

"We're so blessed to have you." Dean squeaked between laughed. Stiles turned his head to him as if having not heard him.

"Huh?" Dean paused to repeat himself.

"I said we're blessed to have you as a son." Stiles shook his head.

"I'm sorry, 'we're….'?" Dean furrowed his brow, not getting why Stiles was having trouble.

"_Blessed." _He said clear as possible, but Stiles still didn't recognize what he'd said.

"I think you're mumbling Dean." Dean looked utterly confused. Scott just rolled his eyes.

"I think he said, they're lucky to have you, Stiles." Stiles' face lit up as if he'd heard it for the first time.

"Oh! Aw, that's so sweet. Thanks Dean." Once Stiles walked off, probably to talk Cas into getting Dean to back off Derek, Dean turned to Scott. Even Michael looked at the boy.

"What the hell was that?" Scott shrugged.

"His coping mechanism, or lack there off. Told you, he didn't deal with the 'devils in the living room' thing well."

"So, he blocks out _anything_ that'll remind him off it?" Scott nodded.

"Until he decides he can process it."

"Dinner is complete!" Cas called from the dining room and Scott scurried off. Coming into the dining room, Dean just barely caught sight of Stiles kissing Cas on the cheek as the angel smiled, just finishing up serving up what seemed to be a hardy stew of some sort, and Stiles finished up setting out silverware, and he couldn't help but smile.

"What are my boys conspiring about now?" Cas only peaked up momentarily, before sitting down and looking to Sam. Stiles had a slightly smug look that worried him. Sam gave a sigh.

"Apparently I'm helping you with the case of the shady boyfriend." Dean gave a look of slight surprise, and Stiles groaned.

"Oh my God. He's not shady. Can we stop saying shady?" Most of them were waiting for the soup to cool but Michael already had a mouthful of it.

"I find most humans 'shady' personally."

"Comparatively, in this family, Derek should not be considered shady!" Stiles said loudly.

"But he's dating you. So he is." Sam said matter-of-factly.

"And you and me are doing some bonding after dinner." Stiles sighed exaggeratedly.

"_Why?!_" Dean scoffed.

"Because otherwise I will never let you leave this house. Ever." Stiles looked like he wanted to scream.

"And what are we bonding over?" Dean started on his soup.

"Shooting practice." Stiles' silverware clanked in his bowl.

"I don't want to." He said firmly. Dean looked at him then set down his silverware to fold his hands and give his best 'I get where you're coming from but this is how it's going to be' face.

"Well, you want to run around with werewolves in the middle of the night on full moons, I'm making sure you know how to fight one off. I'm not saying kill your best friend someday. I get that's not an option. But if Scott ever wolfed out and came at you, I would hope he would love you enough as a friend to understand if you needed to put a couple silver bullets in his knees. Same goes for whoever you two were running with." Stiles huffed and turned his attention toward his soup, not wanting to talk about it since Scott was getting uncomfortable. Dean picked up the roll Cas had put on a plate next to each bowl. He was greeted with rice and ground beef and beans and onions and a bit of cheese somewhere in there. He didn't know what to say so he just made a really loud "Hmm!" sounding mostly surprised. "Cas, what the h- did you make these?" Cas nodded softly.

"Scott gave me the instructions." Dean looked to the steaming roll and then to Scott.

"My mom made them with me and Stiles as kids." Scott said finally smiling again.

"My mom gave his mom the recipe, because she never really got to make them… later on, and she knew me and Scott would like helping Melissa with them…." Stiles said normally but taking a second with certain parts. It made Sam look a bit uncomfortable and Lucifer's hand disappeared under the table to rest on Sam's leg.

"Well, they're damn good." Dean said, sensing the discomfort in the room but not wanting to bring it up. Michael piped up with a mock annoyed voice, picking a fight to change the subject.

"Must you use such words for _absolutely_ no relevant reason?" Adam poked him, not seeing what was going on, but Dean was already going along with the act.

"Yeah, I must. They're used to add meaning to things." Michael gave a fake sneer.

"Maybe it would if you knew what they meant." Dean raised his voice a little in retort.

"Well, it would be around to mean anything if _your dad_ didn't go around damning things in the first place." Michael slammed his fist down on the table.

"He wouldn't have to if _you apes_ weren't so damnable in the first place!" Now Dean simply yelled back.

"Yeah, well it sure _as hell_ seems like we're better off than we would've been going with _His plan._" Dean and Michael gave fake glares at each other in the resulting silence before Gabe burst in the kitchen door.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. Sammy didn't give me much warning. Dad says hi, but he was busy with a pl- something, I didn't really catch it. How's dinner going?" Michael answered lightly as he returned to his meal as if nothing had happened.

"Fine." Dean smiled at him.

"You've gotta try these rolls. Scott, Stiles' friend, taught Cas how to make them. Love em'."


End file.
